


To Save Her Soul

by Rhysand_vs_Fenrys



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysand_vs_Fenrys/pseuds/Rhysand_vs_Fenrys
Summary: After the events of "Captain America: Civil War", Alice Pierce (the granddaughter of Alexander Pierce), a drug addict, is pulled off the streets and forced through detox by the Avengers so that she might help infiltrate her grandfather's compound to rescue Clint's wife and children. **Trigger warnings noted above chapters, overall warning for drug use/withdrawal**





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 

“  _If someone read my mind right now, what would they hear?”_ Alice wondered as she stared at the fluorescent light overhead, “  _Static_?”

It was impossible to say how long she’d been laying in the dirty motel room. An hour? Three? Long enough that she was used to the ambient odor of stale smoke and cum.

“  _Hey, if I wanted a Hilton I would have found one._ ”

Besides, one night in so much as a Motel 8 cost as much as a  _week_ in the dirty little hole she was squatting in, and she wasn’t exactly rolling in money.

“  _When I go out to find food, I’ll splurge on a can of Lysol._ ” Alice promised herself. “  _That’s good for cleaning, right?_ ”

She let her mind wander once more, this time imagining spraying the cleaner and hearing the little screams of “99.9% of viruses and bacteria” dying around her. What about that other 0.1% though? Would it unite and come after her to avenge the fallen?

The thought entertained her frayed mind a while longer. By the time Alice’s head had cleared and her stomach woke, a fierce battle had been waged- those little bacteria versus the big, evil human who’d destroyed their homes and made a graveyard of their once-proud empire. Their capital cities were the stains on the bed, pillows, floor, walls, and yes- even the ceiling.

Well, ‘  _were_ ’ being the operative word. The spray would leave nothing in its wake.

The next batch of bacteria would move in once she was gone. They’d see the dead empire, sense the lingering poison in the air, and turn right around. Her mark would live on forever in the room- on the bones and ruins of her enemies.

Alice giggled in the soon-to-be tomb, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

“  _Too loud, why did I scream?! Wait- did I scream? Or was I just quiet for too long?”_ She turned her head and groaned, “  _My stomach hurts… How long has it been since I ate?_ ” she glanced at the clock. If it could be trusted, it was after 9pm. “  _I got here at 2, hopefully that was today. I didn’t have lunch, I used my money on the Stuff. Didn’t have breakfast either…. I don’t remember dinner yesterday, but that’s nothing new. So, it’s been at least a day since you last ate._ ”

No wonder she felt like shit.

With a sigh Alice sat up, groaning against the hollow ache in her stomach. She was in her underwear- to a degree. Her bra was unhooked and pushed up around her neck, but the straps were still around her arms. Barely hidden beneath a cup she could see the dark stain of a fresh hickey on her pale skin and sighed. Her underwear dangled from one ankle and her legs had been pried apart- where they remained while the Stuff held her mind.

On the nightstand was a few bags of the Stuff and three fresh needles. Alice had vague flashes of memory of a dealer following her into her room before the world melted around her. Nudity wasn’t part of her injection ritual, so the man must have taken his payment in flesh.

When it all started, the thought would have horrified her and sent her straight to the police. Now? At least he paid in Stuff. Alice wasn’t entirely numb to it all yet- a part of her ached for what had happened, and made her heart heavier than she could stomach.

She fixed her bra and underwear, then retrieved her shirt and pants from the ground where they’d been discarded. She stumbled to the bathroom to splash her face and run fingers through her hair. Alice stopped a moment and checked the trash with a racing heart-

-two condoms, used and full. It was almost a relief to see them- some dealers weren’t so courteous. Still… she vowed to never let another one of those in her room again.

 _“Like you haven’t said that before._ ”

Alice pulled on her jacket and stuck a hand in the pocket. Surprisingly, her hand found the cash she’d promised the dealer. Last time she’d woken up, tits covered in drying cum, without so much as her duffel bag. Maybe in this part of the country people really were nicer- if still rapey.

Alice hoped some of the darkness surrounding her stuck to him, infected him like a disease. It would eat him from the inside out, just like it did to her every damn day. The rot turned her innards into a black, puss-ridden mass of dead tissue. At least, that was how she’d always pictured it.

With a sigh, Alice grabbed her bag and hunted down the room key. She slipped out into the night. Her neighbor hesitated halfway out of the door at her sudden appearance, but once he realized she had zero interest in him he went back to slowly closing his door. She glanced over him as she turned her key in the lock- was the crazy bastard putting a strand of hair between the door and frame? She half wished he didn’t have a hoodie on- he probably had his tongue out in concentration like a complete tool.

“Paranoid much?” He shot her a look, but Alice was already walking towards the gas station across the street. The thought of making her bacteria graveyard was too tempting to ignore.

… ok, so maybe she was still a bit high.

She wandered through the sparse evening traffic, taking her damn time to cross the street regardless of crosswalks or other drivers. If someone hit her, she wouldn’t even mind all that much. At least then the rot would be all over their car and she would be free from the poison of her own blood.

Was it the scowl on her face? The dirty clothes? The matted hair? The way she stumbled as she walked? Whatever it was, she made it as far as the welcome mat of the gas station before the manager came out from behind the counter with his hands up.

“Woah, no- you need to leave.”

“What the fuck?” She crossed her arms, “This is a free country, prick.”

“We’ve had enough of your kind in here. You walk around, buy something cheap, and suddenly we’re missing inventory.”

“My  _kind_?”

“Junkies.” He shook his head, “Look, I’m sympathetic. My cousin was a junkie too, but business is business.”

Alice held up the cash in her pocket so that he could see she had money, “Listen fuckface, I just want some poptarts and a can of Lysol. You can follow me if you want, but I”m getting them here.” The old her would have taken her business elsewhere at the initial insult, but she could see her mere presence offended the dickhead, so she was determined to make him suffer a bit longer.

She and the manager glared one another down in the doorway, but of course she won. She learned intimidation at her grandfather’s knee, and besides- she was still high enough that going full space-cadet was easier than focusing. Eventually he turned away with a sigh of disgust, “What flavor poptart?”

“Blueberry, I need my vitamins.” Alice waited with her arms crossed as the manager obediently grabbed her purchase and rung it up. She wadded up a bill and threw it to him, not leaving the door mat. He dumped her change in the bag and came back around.

Halfway to the door he hesitated and sighed, “Look, I’m sorry for being a dick. It’s been a long day.” He grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge by the door and handed them to her with her purchase. He was being generous- they were the liter size, “It’s safer to drink than whatever lead-soaked shit comes out of the drains of that motel. Have a good night, ma’am.”

Alice snorted and yanked the tops off both bottles. She dumped them on the floor and gave a kick for good measure as the manager cursed and jumped back from the growing pool of water, “Go fuck yourself, sir.”

Mister Paranoia, her neighbor, was walking along in the darkest shadows he could find. Alice watched him for a moment, bemused. Her day literally could not get any worse, so she decided to follow him for a bit. Maybe he’d at least be an interesting distraction. The TV in her room was visibly broken, and she didn’t want to return to oblivion just yet.

The man stuck to the shadows, retraced his route, and then vanished. Alice wandered down the deserted streets and- purely by chance- spotted him again going the opposite direction she’d last seen. He clearly didn’t want to be followed, and was damn good at hiding his path, but she managed to keep pace more often than not.

At first Alice thought he was headed towards a church- someone that twitchy had to be an alcoholic. But he gave every church he passed a wide birth- no matter if the parking lots were filled with alcoholics, junkies, or just some evening gamblers. She followed at a distance as he went deeper into the skeevy end of town. She’d been in the city for three days and never came this far from the motel.

Industrial buildings filled the streets- but they were all empty and abandoned. Shattered windows and graffiti- so either she was in gang territory or near a homeless camp. Alice had been caught by a gang of men once while she wandered lost and looking for a score. What they did almost made the dealers who assaulted her gentlemen.

_Maybe this was a bad idea after all._

She caught sight of him slipping into a large yard surrounded by a rusty fence topped in barbed wire. Two guys were waiting inside, illuminated by the headlights of an old van. Alice cursed herself soundly as curiosity drove her closer. The Paranoid Man jogged over to the other two- one tall, black, and athletic (with impressive biceps) and the other a shorter, slightly round Latino man.

“How’d it go? You make contact? She gonna do this or what?” The black man crossed his arms, clearly bored.

The Paranoid Man pulled back his hood, revealing brown hair neatly cut, “Didn’t get the chance.” he looked to the Latino, “Thanks for zeroing us in.”

“Yo, it is my genuine pleasure, man.” The Latino guy went on at about twenty words per second, “See, the way I see it? We family now, and family helps one another out, ya feel? Ohana-style. Your boy is  _my_ boy and well all fugitives together now that those Accords happened. Well- I mean you two are fugitives, I’m a  _rehabilitated_ fugitive, all clean here. But if they go after my boy Scott they go after me, ya feel? And now you two are my boys too. Well,” he babbled, “you’re not my boys but you’re my boys, get it?”

There was a long silence. Just before it got awkward, the white guy clapped him on the shoulder, “Sure do.”

 _“Fugitives? What the fuck?_ ” Alice hadn’t exactly been keeping up with the news as she wandered place-to-place. She was more concerned with making sure  _he_ didn’t find her than she was about current events.

“We don’t have time to waste on this.” The black man was speaking again, “I say we just grab her and sort it out at home base.”

“I don’t disagree with you Sam.” The white man was matter-of-fact. “That’s why Scott’s clearing out the motel as we speak. He’ll be here any minute.”

“What’s your plan for grabbing the girl?”

The white man turned to the Latino, “Got a ranged tazer on you?”

“Sure thing!” the bubbly guy ran over to the passenger door of the van and started to dig around in a pile of junk.

Alice watched carefully. An itch on the back of her neck told her this wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be. Whatever those guys were into, it was bad. Kidnapping? Fleeing the motel in the middle of the night? It sounded too much like something her grandfather would do. The rot in her blood was reminder enough of that world and those who inhabited it.

She’d gone to ground to escape them, she couldn’t stomach the thought of the three in front of her hurting someone- but what could she do? Calling the cops would draw undesired attention to the area.

They would inevitably find her, capture her, and take her to her grandfather.

“  _I’ll never go back,”_ she vowed. “  _Granddad will do whatever it takes to keep me there this time- chain me to the wall, implant a tracker… I’d rather die._ ” Perhaps she was condemning some other woman to death, but Alice reassured herself that there was no guarantee they’d catch their prey.

“  _You’re making excuses_ ,” she told herself. “  _But isn’t that what the Stuff is for? To forget the bad? I’ve been through the bad already. Days like today are weekly now. I don’t owe anyone anything. Not when all they do is take from me anyways.”_

The Latino man found what he was looking for and ran over to the white man as Alice began planning her retreat. “Here it is! All charged up! Well, it was three weeks ago. Hey, it’ll still hurt.” he grinned broadly, “How are you going to get close enough to use it?”

The white man took the tazer as Alice backed away from the fence. She willed the plastic bag in her hand to be silent as she moved. The white man inspected the device carefully, “I’m going to act weird enough to draw her attention, run her around town until she’s tired and a bit lost, then I’m going to do this.”

She gave up stealth and broke into a run as the white man turned and took aim directly at her back. There was a short  _pop_ and she felt the searing pain of hooks in her back- followed half a second later by a wall of electricity that made her bite hard on her tongue and sent her body into a spasm. At some point she felt a humiliating warmth between her legs as she pissed herself- but the pain was almost too great for the realization to sink in.

Her mind was lost in pain and shock as the white man knelt beside her groaning form, “Congratulations, Alice Pierce. You are now in the custody of Captain America.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Trigger Warnings: Addiction, Withdrawal, Some Sexual Dialogue, Implied Rape (No actual rape scene)  
**

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 2**

 

Alice was in Hell.

Whenever she tried to open her eyes, horrific monsters pounced to rip and gough her flesh- to snap her bones in their teeth. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t even begin to fight them off. Her arms and legs were tied down, utterly useless.

Her whole body ached with an exhaustion more profound than anything she’d ever felt, but still the muscles found the strength to cramp and strain. She shivered in the icy cold, boiled in incredible heat, felt her skin dry and break, drowned in sweat and tears-

-and there was nothing she could do to make it stop.

All of it- the visions, the pain, the fear, her screams- nothing could even begin to touch the  _hunger_ that burned through her. Every fiber of her being ached for more of the Stuff. Alice would do anything for even a gram of it. A single gram- anything to make it all stop.

Her heart hammered violently in her chest, an incessant buzz filled her ears, and her stomach heaved and churned violently. Every now and then she tipped forward and vomited across her chest… Then there was more water, the stench was rinsed away, and she was left to repeat the process time and again.

For what felt like  _months_ she begged and wept, screamed and cursed, made sweet promises and crude offers- but no relief came. There were quieter spells, when someone put a cool cloth to her forehead and gave her a divine sip of water, but she was never freed from the restraints that held her down.

One day, ages after the hell began, Alice crawled back from the depths of insanity to the touch of another cloth on her forehead and reflexively opened her mouth for just a few drops of water. The violent buzzing in her ears had faded far enough for her to hear the racing  _beeps_ of a heart monitor. She noticed at last the soft breeze of oxygen tubes in her nose. Alice didn’t dare open her eyes- she couldn’t stand any more visions of monsters and demons.

She couldn’t bare to see the one holding that cloth.

“How’s it going?” Whoever asked the question was on the far side of the room she was being kept in- not the man with the cloth.

Her throat burned when she tried to swallow- though no one had given her any water yet. Her entire body felt like it would shatter if she moved.

“It’s going.” A patient, soothing voice answered.

The closer man tapped her lips with the end of a pipette and she opened. This time water- cool, sweet water- poured over her lips to wet her swollen tongue. She choked and coughed. It only brought more pain. Alice began to cry weakly. SHe tried to curl into a ball against the sharp pains wracking her body, but her bindings were just as secure as always.

“Her episodes are getting weaker.” The close man said.

“Hell of a week,” the man by the door sighed. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

‘  _A week? It’s only been a week?_ ’ Alice’s heart sank and she cried harder. Withdrawal took far longer than a single week. The pain was only just beginning.

“Please,” she whimpered with a rasp, “do whatever you want… Screw me as much as you want- as much as your friends want, in whatever holes you want. Keep me like this, sell me- just give me a fix…” Even she could barely understand the reedy croak that came from her mouth. The Stuff was the only way to put her out of her misery, she’d rather die than go through another day without it.

“That’s not going to happen,” the close man offered her more water. He didn’t relent until her lips parted and she accepted a sip, “We aren’t going to do anything bad to you.”

“I won’t bite,” she promised. “I won’t even fight back unless you tell me to.”

“It. Isn’t. Happening.”

“We’re the good guys,” the man by the door came over to put a hand on her shoulder. It made her skin burn and ache. Alice flinched away from his touch and the hand quickly vanished, “We’re going to help you.”

“Then make it stop!” She managed a passable snap. Abruptly, her temper broke and she began to cry again, “Make it stop.”

“We’re doing our best.” The man with the water gently stroked her hair like a father comforting a child. It felt like he was ripping out her hairs one by one.

“I just need a fix,” she whimpered, “that’ll make me better.”

“No it won’t. I promise you it won’t.”

She only cried harder. The tingling in her scalp was turning into a more insistent burn that slowly spread down her neck and back. Another wave of fire began to rise, “Please… Please…”

“Ssh, it’ll be alright.” He took his hand from her head, “Steve, pass me that… Alice, this will help you get some rest.”

It wasn’t the fix she needed, but within seconds a heavyness began to sweep over her and carry her not towards the insanity and flames, but sweet oblivion, “Sleep. When you wake up, everything's going to be alright.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Clint.”

  
  


Alice stirred slowly in the bright room.

A deep ache burned through her, but instead of feeling like she was being skinned and burned all at once, she just felt like one big bruise. She listened to the slow, rhythmic  _beep_ of the heart monitor and let the sound guide her slowly to back to the world. When she was ready, she opened her eyes and blinked to dispel the fog.

She was in a hospital room. It was hardly the standard size, but it is on the larger end of claustrophobic. Three half-empty IV bags on a stand to her left filtered down into a single port taped to the back of her hand. Thick white cuffs held her wrists and ankles, keeping her from moving more than a few inches. The cloth was hot and tight, and what skin she could see between the sleeves of her gown and the restraints was chafed and red. Alice looked to the other side of the bed and saw a clear tube leading away and around to the back of the bed. THe oxygen was still blowing into her nose.

Someone propped up the bed before leaving,but try and she might she couldn’t reach any buttons on the bedside. A blood oxygen meter was clipped to her big toe and, thanks to the cuffs, she couldn’t even knock it off to see who would come running.

All Alice wanted was a drink of water. That’s it. They had no right to hold her here against her will, but she wasn’t going to argue that point just yet. She only wanted a goddamn drink!

A vision of three men in a parking lot came back to her as she gave up the fight. Those men captured her. Brought her to this place and put her through that Hell.

_Congratulations Alice Pierce. You are now in Avengers custody._

She wasn’t exactly sure she was remembering things correctly, but she tried to sift through the tempest for some clue. Was she with  _them_ , or  _him_?

It was more than two years since she’d broken out of her grandfather’s base. He wanted her to be like him- a perfect Hydra soldier. Her parents were killed before her third birthday, and her grandfather raised her to take up his mantle one day. Alexander Pierce wanted her strong, fast, intelligent, able- and she’d blindly followed his lead. Blindly trusted that he was SHIELD, despite any evidence to the contrary. When he came out as Hydra- when she realized exactly what path he’d been taking her down- she ran.

At first Alice simply lived on the streets. She used her wit and guile- all those traits he’d instilled in her- to hide from the agents he sent to hunt her down. Life was hard, she met some bad people, but at least they could hide her from  _him_.

When someone offered her a pill she was a paranoid wreck. She couldn’t sleep at night, could hardly eat, and was always looking over her shoulder. What the hell? Maybe that little pill would take the edge off. She was going insane from the stress, a little unwind couldn’t hurt, right? Eventually the pills became more regular, the doses larger, and the highs briefer. She’d OD’d on them six months later and before she even woke in the hospital her grandfather’s goons were in place.

He took her home, locked her up in a room not terribly unlike this one, and forced her through withdrawal. When he was done she knew what he would do- everyone knew by then that Hydra dabbled in mental “cleansing”. He would come for you.

Alexander Pierce loved his granddaughter, he trusted her to know when she was caught. That was where the Avengers were smart-  _they_ thought to tie her down. Her grandfather hadn’t. When a guard was distracted she’d grabbed a syringe of adrenaline from the “Cold Turkey Kit” (as she called it) and jammed it into his neck. Her grandfather wanted her to be in her own room then so that the view might help keep her calm-

-but the windows offered a wonderful escape if you were determined enough.

She ran for a week before she even thought about looking for a dealer. The town she hid in was small, pills weren’t as readily available, and she had nothing to offer in trade. He took pity on her, gave her a syringe of the Stuff.

That first high was incredible.

Alice stayed with that dealer for a few months. He hooked her up with the right chemicals in exchange for a quick-and-hard whenever he wanted. When she was high he would let his friends take turns on her and record it to show her afterwards, as if that was something she should be proud of.

When it all became too much, she convinced him to post the videos online.

While he was distracted, she ran.

There was a darkness in her veins- Alice knew the  _moment_ those videos appeared online it was only a matter of time before Alexander Pierce came for her and rained hellfire down on that bastard and his friends. She almost felt guilty when she saw the news reports a few weeks later about the bodies of six men found skinned alive in their old hideout.

After that? After that it was two years Alice could hardly remember. A lot of stuff was probably best left buried beneath the chemical high of heroin- or meth when she was feeling particularly shitty… Until it became  _only_ meth.

The last time someone tried to ‘save’ her, she was a prisoner. This time wasn’t going to be any different.

Her mood sank lower as she wallowed in self pity. A prisoner of Hydra, a prisoner of the Avengers. What was the difference?

After several minutes there was a soft knock on the door. She turned her tired eyes and a man with short brown hair entered. He wasn’t the one who shot her with the tazer, that was for sure. This guy looked older, and he gave off the ‘dad-vibe’ big time with a flannel shirt and an easy grin.

Alice immediately hated him.

In his hand was a tall glass filled with a thick, opaque blue liquid, “Good morning, Alice.” He had crows feet at the edges of his eyes that crinkled into a smile.

“What do you want?” She had one night of sleep- presumably with some pharmaceutical help. She couldn’t tell that she still had deep, dark bruises beneath her eyes, but she knew she must look like a tired piece of shit. Meth didn’t exactly make her pretty to begin with, and withdrawal took one hell of a toll.

He paused to consider her question, “What do I want?” there was a weariness that he kept buried, but Alice pretended not to notice, “I want you to drink this, and I’m hoping you can keep it down. If you can, we’ll look into getting some real food for you later.”

Alice held her breath as he set the glass down on a small bedside table and untied her right arm. As soon as it was free she lifted it and stretched. As much pain as the burning muscles gave, freedom of movement was a breath of life back into the woman.

“What is it?” Alice eyed the blue liquid.

“A blueberry smoothie. You had poptarts on you, so we thought you might appreciate the taste.” He held it up, waiting for her to take it, “It’s easy on the system, has plenty of protein powder mixed in, and if you start throwing up again it won’t hurt coming back up as much as solid food would.” She made no move to take the drink, “Listen, you’ve been here a little over a week now. You haven’t eaten anything, and you’ve been throwing up almost non-stop. We can only do so much with the IVs.”

“Let me go and give me back what’s mine, poptarts included.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know if you remember, but you asked me that before. The answer is the same- not a chance. We’re getting you through this if you like it or not. You’re killing yourself, Alice.”

“And what makes you think that’s a bad thing?” despite herself, she snatched the damn smoothie. It wasn’t water, but it was wet and cold.

“Slowly,” he cautioned as she took a long drink.

“Fuck off.” Alice took another swig, slower this time. It didn’t taste right, but her mouth was still dry. The thick drink coated her throat and burned, but it was an improvement, “Why are the Avengers so damn concerned with my vices?”

“We-”

“You want something. What?”

“Steve should really be the one to-”

“Tell me.” He didn’t answer and she seriously considered throwing the smoothie at his stupid face, “Your friends lured me into a parking lot, tazed me, brought me god knows where- and did god knows what while I was out-”

“They would  _never_ -”

“-  _and_ you’ve held me prisoner for a week, you’re  _forcing_ me to get clean.” Her voice broke and a tear slipped down her cheek, “I have nothing. I am no one. That’s what I wanted. Now you tell me why I have to feel like  _this_ for some goddamn assholes I’ve never even met.”

He hesitated for a long time, but when she began to reconsider throwing the smoothie, he cleared his throat, “We need you to get us some intel.”

“From where?” Cold dread coiled in her stomach.

He took a deep breath, braced to be hit in the face with the glass, and answered, “From your grandfather’s house.”

Alice took no satisfaction from the blood as her glass cut his eyebrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Trigger Warnings: Addiction, Withdrawal, Rape Reference**

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 3**

 

Somehow, she passed out.

Her last memory was of smashing a glass of blueberry smoothie against the nameless man’s face and watching the first traces of blood drip from his eyebrow. Without transition or warning, her bed was flat and there was a full oxygen mask over her mouth. Her eyes were wide open and dry. Alice came to as a nurse cautiously administered medicated drops.

Both of her arms were free, though her legs were still bound. Her hands were frozen in claws, squeezing the sheets so hard that her knuckles ached and burned. Another nurse injected something into her IV. IT felt different from the withdrawal- her brain wasn’t foggy, yet everything seemed disjointed and in a reality of its own.

Alice turned her eyes towards the door- it was wide open and the man who tazed her in the parking lot was standing there with his arms crossed-

‘  _What the fuck?_ ’ she blinked a few times, ‘  _I’m losing my mind… his arm isn’t metal- is it?’_

He wasn’t looking at her, he was looking to the other side of the room with a scowl on his face. Alice followed his gaze to see Smoothie Man glaring straight back at Tazer-Man with one eye while a third nurse stitched the long cut across his face. Smoothie was drying in his shirt and pants, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Congratulations on  _breaking_ the asset Clint,” Tazer-Man snapped, “that was a good plan.”

“Her name is Alice, and I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted her to understand-”

“What? Understand what? That we dragged her here against her will and put her through hell just so that she could go back to  _Alexander-fucking-Pierce_?! Oh, and when did you intend to tell me she was still alive? It’s  _why_ I’m out of cryo, isn’t it? To kill him  _again_?”

“Yes, but not until we find my family. If we told you he was still out there, you’d just run off to shoot him in the head and I would never see them again.” Clint’s voice broke at the end.

Tazer-Man was audibly pissed, but he lightened his tone slightly, “Look, I get that you barely know me, but I said I’d find your wife and kids. I meant it. I’ll kill Pierce- that’s a guarantee- but I’m not doing it until we find them. And, frankly, I don’t think this girl is going to help us.”

“She has to,” Clint whispered, “otherwise we’ve got nothing. You went to the farm- you saw the destruction. A grenade was thrown into the panic room, the bunker was empty, and our safehouse had been burned to the ground. What strings Steve managed to pull turned up nothing… Pierce  _has_ to be behind this. He was SHIELD- he must have known about Laura and the kids!”

“Yeah, I was on his team once upon a time, remember?” Tazer-Man snapped again, then took a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m sorry about Laura and the kids, really I am, and I won’t go back under until we have answers… but there has to be a better way to find him than relying on a  _meth addict_ to go on a covert mission.”

“I’m with electro-shock,” Alice mumbled. She winced- at some point she’d bitten her tongue. She managed to raise a hand and push the mask off of her face. Her fingers were still locked in claws, but it was starting to feel more like cramped muscles than paralysis.

‘  _Small fucking miracles.’_

“How are you feeling?” Clint was still at the mercy of the nurse stitching his eye, but he called around her.

“Everything hurts ten different ways, so basically exactly the same,” Alice snapped. Her head felt thick and hard, her eyes were buggy, and there was a buzzing in her ears as if a bee were trapped between her and the pillow.

“Just relax,” the nurse said with some African accent, “you had a seizure.”

“I’m not an alcoholic, that’s an alcoholic thing,”

“A methamphetamine addiction, correct?” Alice nodded, “Tell me- were you mixing tranquilizers with it?”

She looked away, but that was all the answer the nurse needed. For the last few months straight-up meth wasn’t doing it for her, not like before. A dealer in Newark convinced her he could cut the meth with Klonopin or Valium and taught her the best mixture. As often as a dealer gave her the right chemicals, she could play chemist.

Alice didn’t meet the gaze of Tazer-Man, Clint, or either nurse. She was too embarrased. Her mind was finally registering that she was with the  _Avengers_ \- people she’d admired ever since the Battle of New York, people she cheered for when the news was filled with the collapse of the Triskellion (mostly because she thought Captain America had saved her goddamn grandfather)... and now, thanks to an ugly twist of fate, they needed her help and… and she was just some pathetic junkie who couldn’t even fight their own impulses. Someone with the presence of mind to know what she was doing was dangerous but the stupidity to find a way to make it worse and tell herself she was being smart.

The Steve from her brief snap to consciousness must have been Captain-fucking-America himself. And Clint- Hawkeye. Great.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, mostly because the silence that began with the nurses’ question had turned into a long and uncomfortable one.

“You don’t need to be ashamed,” the nurse patted her arm. “But if we’d known that sooner we could have treated you more effectively.” She shot a sharp glare to Tazer-Man.

He held up both hands- one  _definitely_ metal, “I watched her for a week, as ordered. How was I supposed to know what was mixed into that junk she shot herself up with?” he balked under the nurses’ wrath and immediately looked down to Alice, “I’m sorry, that.... I shouldn’t have worded it like that…” now  _he_ was the embarrased one.

“No it’s… it’s fine.”

The nurse finished stitching Clint’s head and carefully applied gauze bandages to the wound. As soon as she finished, he returned to his seat beside Alice’s bed, “I’m sorry too- I shouldn’t have pushed so hard so quickly.”

“Can- can I ask some questions? Please?” she was drowning with nothing to hold on to beyond what she’d overheard and what her fried brain could put together.

“Anything you want, we’ll answer,” Clint said.

“You were looking for me? For how long?” she looked to Tazer-Man, “And who are you?”

“My name is Bucky, and they thawed me out about three weeks before I found you.”

“How did you find me when Hydra couldn’t?”

“I have my ways. You’ve left breadcrumbs over the years, most of them were collected by Hydra agents. I followed their trail and made a few lucky guesses. I found you in Wadena and followed you on to Racine from there.”

A cold hand gripped her heart, “Did you see-”

“The dealer follow you into the motel?” Alice couldn’t exactly turn away, she was too weak to sit up, but he came to put his human hand on her shoulder, “I didn’t know what was happening, but I have a good idea now. I’m sorry I didn’t stop it. Really.”

A tear slid down her cheek, but if she started crying now she wasn’t sure she would ever stop. There was a fine line between self-loathing and self-pity, and Alice was flirting with it as it was, “You did all the crap with the door so I would follow you?” He nodded, “And who exactly  _are_ you?”

“A friend of Steve Rogers.”

“He was here before?” she looked to Clint, who nodded once, “What happened to your family?”

Clint sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know. Half the Avengers are fugitives now, the world turned on us. I was locked up, Cap got me out, and when I went home-” he shook his head and let his misery show.

“The house was ransacked,” Bucky said. “It looked like whoever hit them did it during breakfast. There were bullet holes everywhere- Hydra’s favorite caliber- and I found tracks from a dozen vehicles. The panic room was destroyed and- well, you heard the rest. They were captured, I’m positive about that. An Avenger’s family is too much leverage for them to just pass up.

“How many people did they take?”

“My wife Laura and our kids- Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel. They’re just kids- Nate’s not even two yet.” A tear slipped down Clint’s cheek.

“And my g-  _he_ took them?

“I’m pretty sure.” Bucky nodded, Clint just hung his head.

“Do you know for sure?”

“That’s for Steve to say,” Bucky answered immediately. “I promise you he will tell you everything once he’s back. Can you hold off for a few days? You already heard the worst parts- the rest is just details.”

There was a weariness in Bucky’s eyes, but an underlying sincerity that she wanted to believe. So Alice nodded and accepted that for now it was all she would get.

“You two should leave now,” the nurse on her left said gently. “I’ll be putting someone in here around the clock to monitor for further complications, so you needn’t hover and  _these_ needn’t be on.” She put a hand on one of the ankle cuffs and smiled down to Alice, “The scary part is almost passed. I don’t think you’re in danger of hurting yourself.”

“Fine,” Clint said reluctantly. The nurse made it clear with her stony glance that there was no other acceptable answer. Bucky squeezed Alice’s shoulder and walked away without a word, but the other Avenger took her hand in his. She could hardly feel it.

“I’m sorry about your family.”

“I’m sorry too,” he patted the back of her hand. “And I’m especially sorry for yesterday. You were in bad shape, I thought a night’s rest would help. I’m the one who gave you sedatives… if I’d known about the other addiction, I’d never have put you through that.”

“I don’t know if it made things worse or not, but… I slept.” she twitched her fingers as best she could to squeeze his hand, “that was worth it.” As her head slowly cleared, the hunger returned to fill its place. She released his hand and turned her head away. Hell was creeping up on her, and the part that wanted to be as alone as possible once the screaming began won out over the part that wanted him to stay and help her through it.

‘  _He lost his family. They’re gone and he can’t get them without my help. His wife… children… a baby…’_ She didn’t hear what the nurse said to her after Clint left.

She shuddered to think about what her grandfather was doing to them, the family of an Avenger. Clint stopped looking for his family in order to find her.

The Avengers- the very same people who saved the world from an alien apocalypse- they couldn’t get one small family from her grandfather’s claws without the help of some strung-out junkie… A junkie who’d whored herself out for this or that so many times that after the latest rape she’d gone for poptarts and stalked a man out of sheer boredom. She hadn’t cried or raged or even gone after that son of a bitch herself.  _That_ was who they wanted to help them save the ones an  _Avenger_ held most dear?

‘  _They’re damned._ ’


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Trigger Warnings: Addiction, Withdrawal, Underage Sex (Referenced, not depicted)  
**

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 4**

 

Alice burned, froze, shook, seized, and vomited- and she waited through it all for the arrival of Steve Rogers.

If anyone would understand just how bad of an idea it was to even consider sending her back to Alexander Pierce, it would be Captain America… though it sounded like he was the one who signed off on her abduction in the first place. She’d convince him or simply refuse to move from the bed. He couldn’t  _make_ her go anywhere, especially not back to that house.

Now that she was unbound and more regularly awake, the cravings increased tenfold. Alice had developed a persistent tremor in her hands that made it hard to grip anything, her legs were jelly, and her head either twitched or lolled from side to side without much control. It was like a blood sugar crash without anything to help.

At night, white-hot lashes of pain ripped through her body, but the nurses did nothing. Her doctor was a tall man with an easy smile and onyx skin who sat by her through the worst of it, but did nothing to help with her torture. He told her stories of panthers and lions stalking heroes in the jungle, or read to her in an odd language. They were thin distractions from the agony of withdrawal.

There were two more seizures before they found the right mix of medicines to work with her body. If there was a fallout from the sedative Clint gave her, it was lost in everything else. Alice’s nurse brought her books, but she couldn't’ concentrate enough to read. Next they tried art- but her hands were too weak and shook too violently to hold a pen or brush. Once upon a time she could play piano, but her hands were too clumsy now…

One night they allowed her a solid dinner of mashed potatoes, corn, and roast chicken. She had no appetite, but poked at the potatoes until she’d sculpted them into a face. The next day her IVs were replaced with (heavily controlled) pills and a nurse walked her down a long white hallway to a makeshift craft room. Inside, someone showed her how to work clay into long ropes that could be scored, stacked, and smoothed to form bowl. It was simple, mindless work that was sturdy enough to survive her clumsy hands. The perfect distraction.

That day, Alice realized she wasn’t in a hospital. It should have been obvious- the Avengers were fugitives. They could hardly come and go around some public hospital or rehab facility- but it was a jarring contrast to her perceived reality. Between her room and the craft room (or as the sign proclaimed ‘Lab Storage 6’) were several doors marked “Biological”, “Cryogenic Storage”, “Research”, and “Surplus Vib. Storage”, whatever that meant. Each door revealed long hallways with even more secured rooms. Alice had been squished into what must have amounted to a janitor’s closet.

“For the last time- NO!” a tinny voice just barely reached her ears in the craft room. “You were so damn scared of Hydra triggering you that you  _froze yourself_!”

“Yeah, I know, I was the one who requested it!” she looked around for the source of the shouting, but there were no radios in the room. Eventually, Alice spotted a small air vent in the corner. Wherever the fight was taking place, the duct must have been at just the right angle to pick it up.

“We have her now! We have our way in!”

“CLINT’S WIFE AND KIDS ARE GOING TO DIE BECAUSE OF  _ME_!” the second man shouted. She was pretty sure that was Bucky’s voice.

There was a long silence before the other man spoke again, “It won’t come to that, and even if it does- it isn’t your fault.”

“Clint came to help  _me_. He left them because  _my_ past came to bite everyone in the ass. HE was in the Raft because he let himself get captured so  _I_ could get away-”

“No. He came because I asked him to. I dragged everyone into that mess in Germany and I am responsible for them being in that Raft. Me.” The other voice had to belong to Steve Rogers. A cold dagger went through Alice’s heart- if he was back then they would come for her.

“IT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT PIERCE IS GOING TO DO TO LAURA BARTON!” Bucky roared. “He had me frozen, thawed, and tortured a hundred times just so he could send me out to slaughter innocent civilians. The last few years before the Triskellion? I was his personal errand-monkey. He kept me out of cryo and had them rip my head apart again and again. I may not remember everything I did for Pierce, but I remember that. I remember it more clearly than my own name most days. I don’t just get  _why_ Alice shoots that poison into her veins, I WANT TO FUCKING JOIN HER! I won’t let him put Clint’s wife and kids through that.”

“She’ll help us,” Steve snapped. “She has to. To take a shot at Pierce in that compound, you’ll need to get inside the border. Let’s say you survive the fence, the guns, the gass, and the guards… then what? All he has to do is broadcast your activation code and you’re his again!”

“CLINT TOLD HER HE NEEDED INTEL FROM HER GRANDFATHER’S HOUSE AND SHE HAD A SEIZURE! SHE CAN’T HANDLE THIS! SHE’S TOO WEAK, TOO FRAIL, AND TOO FAR GONE! SHE’S USELESS! SHE’S WORSE THAN USELESS-”

Alice didn’t hear any more of what Bucky said. She bolted.

While she worked in the craft room, she was given some semblance of privacy. Alice was sure someone was monitoring her every move, but there were no guards at the door, and nurses came to her when it was time to go back to the room. She’d never really tried to run before, but now she couldn’t stop.

She ran past her door and continued on to the end of the hall, then ran along a perpendicular corridor, this one with along line of black metal sculpted into a jungle scene. She ran to the end of  _that_ had, down another, and proceeded through the facility until she emerged somewhere covered in cobwebs.

Every time she slowed down, Alice felt eyes on her back. She thought she heard something behind her, but there was nothing and no one there. Whatever it was, it had to be chasing after her. It became something evil and dark and faceless. Sometimes she thought it was her grandfather, or Captain America. Clint or the doctor or Bucky or the nurses- she was so scared and so lost that she began to cry as she ran.

The deserted level had no locked doors and mile after mile of hallway. Alice ran until her legs gave out, and even then she crawled as far as she could, until she pulled herself through a doorway and into a room filled with abandoned boxes. She managed to move to the back of the room, and shifted the boxes around her until they formed a makeshift barrier. Once she was hidden, once she was buried alive in the forgotten room, she allowed herself to shatter wholly.

‘  _They’ll find me,_ ’ she thought as she cried. ‘  _They’re probably already on their way here. They’ll see where I went, they’ll find their way down here, and then they’ll follow the tracks in the dust._ ’ she curled tightly into a ball and cried into the cold stone floor.

Alice cried for the two and a half years lost to pills and drugs. She cried for everything she did, and everything that had been done to her. She cried for Clint’s family, trapped in her grandfather’s house. She cried for Bucky, whose story she didn’t even really know. She cried for the heroes who were piling their very last hope onto a broken, rotted woman.

The Avengers broke something in her, something that couldn’t be drowned out with anything she could inject, snort, or swallow. They broke the walls that held back Alice Pierce. Everything she’d shoved away to be who she had to be to survive- her pride, her ambition, honesty, kindness, empathy- her soul itself. The dam had come crumbling down and it crashed over her in a wave of glass and nails to pull her to her death.

After a few hours, Alice managed to sit up.

After another three, she moved the boxes and left the room.

Her way through the long abandoned level had taken her past a deserted lounge, filled with chairs covered in white cloth. Two of them had been uncovered. One for her-

-and one for Captain America.

He watched her with sad, weary eyes as she took her seat. There was nothing but pain on his face. Alice stared at him for a long time before he finally nodded, “Hydra weapons tore apart their farm. Moving machinery like that isn’t easy- but tracking it is. We found where the trucks and vans came from and followed the paper trail to Virginia. It was easy to link a phone call made from an estate in  _your_ name. Judging by the fire power moving into that facility, we figured he had to be inside- alive. I took a prisoner and he confirmed it before I handed him over to what’s left of SHIELD. Your grandfather has Laura Barton and her kids hostage, and he’s gathering enough weaponry and firepower around him to do serious damage. Something big is coming, and we can’t stop him until we know those four are safe.”

Steve looked for some kind for recognition or emotion in Alice’s face, but it was stone. She waited for him to finish, then let out a long, slow breath. When she spoke, her voice was hard, “Growing up, he told me stories about his adventures as a spy. I didn’t know they were true until I was a teenager. My grandfather- a real-life James Bond. He told me the fights were for good reasons- that from the chaos would come order and truth. He said he was ming people’s lives better by taking away whatever hurt them…”

“I loved him so much… and when I watched the fall of the Triskellion on the news I was sobbing on the floor.” Steve looked down, but she continued with the same hard, emotionless voice, “I couldn’t reach him. I must have called his cell a thousand times. Reports started to trickle out about a Hydra incursion and it felt like my entire world was breaking apart. My grandfather was in direct oversight of SHIELD, over even Nick Fury himself, and if anyone was targeted, I knew it would be him. The guards at home couldn’t tell me anything, his bodyguards weren’t answering their radios- I thought he was dead.”

“Three days after the Triskellion, a caravan of SUVs came through the front gate and my grandfather came into the house on a stretcher with so many tubes and IVs coming out of him that I wasn’t even sure he was still alive. He woke up three weeks later. By then I knew what he really was. Who he really was. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t a savior. He was a monster. He told me everything- like it would somehow make it all better. Every bit of Hydra rhetoric he knew- that ‘order from chaos’ really meant ‘freedom in slavery’... I unplugged his oxygen and slashed his IVs when he was sleeping.”

Alice never looked away from Steve’s eyes, “His men saved him. They dragged me down a hallway I’d walked a thousand times and through a hidden door I’d never seen in my entire life. In a basement I didn’t know existed they chained me to the wall, taped my eyes open, and started the mental cleansing then and there. My grandfather’s head of security, Silas, stopped it when he found out what they were doing. I left that night and- save for a few days when he did to me  _exactly_ what you’re doing now- I haven’t set foot inside that place since.”

“His head of security saved you?” Steve asked.

“We’d been screwing on and off since I was 15.” Alexander Pierce wasn’t the only darkness in Alice’s past, just the one she blamed everything on. “Apparently that’s actually worth something, even to Hydra. Don’t think he wouldn’t slit my throat in a heartbeat if my grandfather ordered it, but at least back then he offered me some favoritism.”

The sadness in Steve’s eyes only deepened at her revelation and he cursed soundly, “You shouldn't have had to go through that. Any of it. I knew we were asking too much. You’re safe here- in this country. Your grandfather and Silas can  _never_ find you here. Our host has already extended his hospitality to you permanently. They’ll set you up with-”

“I’ll do what I can to save Clint’s family on two conditions,” Alice interrupted Steve before he tempted her any further. “Number one- if he throws me into that conditioning machine again, you kill me. I won’t serve Hydra and I won’t live with that in my head for a single day. Number two- Bucky puts a bullet in Silas’ brain before or after he’s done with my grandfather- and I get to watch.”

Steve sat in stunned silence at the conviction in her voice. Part of Alice wasn’t even sure the words were  _hers_. The pillar of strength that was holding her up was little more than a toothpick trying to hold up a crumbling building, but it was made of something she didn’t think she possessed anymore- a pure force of will that would keep her moving, even if the rest of her crumbled to dust.

“Deal.” Bucky stepped out of the hallway leading back to the main facility. Alice wasn’t even surprised to see him there.

“How will you get into the house? We’ll have to sit down and-”

“I know my way in,” Alice kept her gaze locked on Steve, “all I need you to do is tell me where we are now.”

“Wakanda. Africa.” Bucky answered again.

“Then I need a ride  _back_ to the United States. I don’t care where you drop me- just not Virginia. I’ll make my way there myself and leave enough of a trail to make Hydra happy.”

“Can you stay clean out there on your own?” Bucky countered.

“If it ends with my grandfather and Silas dead? Yes.”

The quiet wrath in her voice was enough to convince him, “Alright. We’ll follow when it’s safe and find a way to communicate with you in the compound. All you have to do is find Laura and the kids. Once you do, we’ll figure out a rescue plan.”

Alice could see in his eyes that he still didn't quite trust her, but she didn't need him to. She knew she could do it. He would figure it out eventually.

Steve cleared his throat, “When do you want to leave?”

“Now. Before I come to my senses.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Trigger Warnings: None  
**

 

**Chapter 5**

 

‘  _How the fuck did they talk me into this?_ ’

Alice couldn’t stop shaking, as usual, but it wasn’t just withdrawal behind the fidgeting, toe-tapping, headache, and knotted stomach. She blew her mind apart on drugs to forget the son-of-a-bitch existed, and now she was heading straight back home.

There was no way for the Avengers to accompany her on the bus, which put them visibly on edge. They knew it was risky to hand a junkie money and let her just walk away. As soon as she stepped into the Nebraska bus station she  _had_ to assume she was being watched (or at least that Hydra would check the tapes). If she was going along with this goddamn, half-assed scheme she wouldn’t be tripped up by terminal security footage showing Captain America leading her into the ticketing booth. The Avengers just had to trust that Alice would get on the bus to Vermont and aim for the family home.

Still, Alice wished  _someone_ could come with her, even Luis, who met the Quin-Jet with a sufficiently rancid change of clothes for her to wear (the jerks in Wakanda washed hers, so now they were way too clean for a recovering junkie). Luis seemed like a nice guy- but again, she knew her story would be checked out and Luis was easily traced to cell-mate Scott Lang, a known ally of Captain America. Hell,  _google_ could make the connection.

No one on the 24-hour bus ride had any pills or injectables they were willing to share. Alice checked. She couldn’t do it, she wasn’t strong enough-

An innocent woman and three children would die if she didn’t even  _try_ to help. For them, she found the willpower to walk off the bus and towards a cab driver, even though it would still be only too easy to vanish.

Alice stood with the cab door open long enough that the disgruntled driver threatened to leave without her. Overwhelming dread nearly paralyzed her, but she still found herself sitting down and telling him where to go (naturally, he demanded the cab fare up front). The Avengers were on their way, but they had to be careful to slip under Hydra radar. For now it was just her, alone, in enemy territory.

‘  _Bucky can go fuck himself when he sees that I kept up my end._ ’ Anger gave her strength.

“Turn left here,” she pointed down a narrow gravel road that vanished at a bend in the trees, “I’ll get out at the gate.” Her voice was shaky and she felt sick. She couldn’t stop wringing her hands, and her heart raced faster than it had since detox. In that first week of withdrawal she thought the cravings would drive her insane, now she was  _positive_ they would.

It was more than addiction at this point. The idea of even  _seeing_ her grandfather or Silas sent her into overdrive. She couldn’t help but crave the Stuff, it was pavlovian.

Just around the bend was a large marble-and-steel gate. A tall fence ran the perimeter of the property- the same fence that worried Cap so much. She knew about the mines along the outside, the lazer-guided guns in each pillar of the fencing, and the tear gas. What  _else_ might her grandfather have installed since she’d left?

‘  _Fort Knox… Home sweet home._ ’

Two guards just inside the gate already had their hands on their guns before the cab came to a stop.

“Thanks,” Alice only had a small bag with a single change of clothing and a ratty notebook. Somehow she managed to exit the cab faster than she’d entered.

“You can’t get out here,” the guard snapped. He tried to wave the cab down, but the driver was already backing away.

“I’m here to see Pierce,” there wasn’t a chance in hell that her shaking hands and knocking knees weren’t going to give her away, so she didn’t bother hiding the fear in her voice.

The guards didn’t even blink, “There’s no one here by that name. Leave or you will be removed.”

“Bullshit,” Alice winced and rubbed her forehead as a lance of pain shot through her skull. “Technically speaking I own this house, not him. Tell Silas that Alice is here and to either let me in now, or I vanish for good.”

The gates opened immediately. As soon as she stepped out of the cab, Alice knew cameras were watching and Silas’ curious ear would be listening in. Her name was as good as any house key.

“Come with me, please.” One guard waved her down the drive. It was a good thing they were Hydra- she felt like she was on the edge of a full breakdown and the average security guard wouldn’t know how to handle it. This one could smell fear a mile off. He guided her gently towards the home she’d once loved, but there was no doubt that if she so much as stumbled she’d be dragged inside.

‘  _God, I need a fix…_ ’

Around another bend in the path her home was visible. It was a dark, sprawling, meticulously kept manor home. Trees were cleared away to give it a large yard, but even in the cool fall there wouldn’t be a single leaf within the perimeter. White windows contrasted the red brick and she was met with her own reflection from about ten different angles. As a child, her grandfather said it was protection from snooping goblins. As a teen, he said it was in case bad people came wandering through. Now she knew what the one-way windows truly were- protection for the monsters inside from snipers.

‘  _Now I_ really  _need a fix._ ’

“What was that?” The guard turned his head.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

He wasn’t too concerned with what she may or may not have said. He escorted her to the door, knocked twice, and stepped back to wait. Another guard opened the door with a curt nod and waved her inside.

Somehow it was harder to see the house like this- a perfectly preserved recreation of her childhood. The same flowers- lilies- in a bouquet on the round foyer table. The same old wooden clock in the corner, built by her great-great grandfather. Alice glanced into the parlor and saw the grand piano she once played so deftly for her grandfather’s dinner parties… It wouldn’t be quite so melodic now that she could hardly control her fingers.

One layer of the house was for guests- immaculate, polished, and rich. Beyond that though was  _home_. Hallways were canary yellow, painted in a weekend project by her and her grandfather five years ago. There were no grand portraits on the walls, but framed stick-figure drawings done first by her mother, then Alice as a toddler. Pictures of her, laughing and happy, filled every spare surface.

Alice had to pause to catch her breath. Hell- but one where she’d loved and been loved more dearly than anything else. The child in those pictures could never imagine the horrors around her- the horror she would become. Honestly, Alice couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry, vomit, or have a panic-attack.

“Director Pierce is waiting for you in the living room,” the guard prompted.

“I need a shot.” She grumbled and forced herself to move, “Whiskey, meth, or in the back of the skull. You choose.”

When she thought her grandfather was SHIELD it was easy to be proud of him. When he came home with two bullets in his chest and she learned the full truth, that reality burned and took her soul along with it.

Just ahead the double doors to the living room were wide open. She could already see a handful of goons- the living room had to be packed with them. The Avengers were right- he was planning something.

She took a long, shaking breath and stepped fully into the doorway. There were nearly two dozen agents gathered silently around. Silas watched her with the intensity of a hawk and a look of complete disdain. It used to both intimidate and turn Alice on, but now she’d seen the ugly side of the world. He was no more frightening or alluring than the dealers.

He didn’t scare her, and with a shock she realized that the man beside him didn’t either.

Alice spent so long thinking of Alexander Pierce as this all-powerful pillar of evil that she’d made herself forget about the laugh lines around his eyes, his open, honest face, and the easy smile they shared. Alexander Pierce- Grandpa- the man before her was a monster, but he was so damn good at hiding it that just seeing him sitting there made her want to run to him and cry until he chased her demons away.

“Alice,” he looked as nervous as she felt, “you look-”

“Like shit, I’m aware.” She bruised more easily, her bones stuck out on her painfully thin frame, her eyes were sunken and ringed in dark circles, and she flashed him a sarcastic smile to highlight the horror that was her dental health- huge black holes, sharp, jagged remnants, and inflamed gums. TV zombies had nothing on a meth addict.

“Like shit,” his agreement was gentle and incredibly pained, as though he could hardly bare seeing her. “Why- I mean what-” he didn’t know how to ask why she’d come without sounding dismissive, “You’re… better?”

“I’m getting there,” she chewed her lip gently, nervous at the watching crowd, “Can we talk?”

“Absolutely.” A single wave of his hand is all it takes to clear most of the room. Silas kept a guard back- a woman with long dark hair and the hard face of a killer, “How are you? I’ve missed you Alice, I was so worried…” he seemed sincere, but he seemed just as sincere when he told her he was one of the good guys.

“I’m… I’m here now.” She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“And you’re… you’re clean?”

She nodded, “Two weeks. It’s barely anything-”

“It’s a lot,” hope shone naked on his face.

“Why did you come here now?” Silas’ tone was not unkind, but he would accept nothing short of a complete answer, “Do you need money? Is someone after you?”

“Yes,” honesty was her only option with Silas, “someone’s been following me for a while now. On the streets I can stay a few steps ahead, but if I’m living like that I can’t stay clean for long. I’m barely holding on as it is, I won’t make it another week.”

Her grandfather looked worried, “Who’s following you? A dealer?”

“  _You_ ,” she fixed him with a cold glare, “I  _want_ to stay clean, I  _want_ my life back, but I can’t do that if every day I’m looking over my shoulder for your goons. I won’t be dragged back into this place kicking and screaming, so I don’t have much choice. I’m dead if I stay out there, the meth will kill me, but if I want a chance at any kind of life, I have to go through you first. If you plan on throwing me in the conditioning room again then just fucking do it. I’m done running.”

Until she said it aloud, Alice didn’t realize how true the words were. She  _did_ need a chance, she  _did_ need to face him. How much longer could she survive on the streets? A year? Optimistically? If she didn’t OD she’d die from disease or hunger. The only way forward was through her grandfather, dead or alive.

To his credit, Pierce actually stood up at the mention of the conditioning room. He looked positively miserable, “Cleansing? You think I’d do that to my own granddaughter? My Bunny?”

The use of her childhood nickname made her want to puke, “It happened before.”

“Without clearance. Those guards were executed.” Silas crossed his arms.

Alice shivered, but refused to lose focus, “You were  _furious_ when I refused to join. You told me you would  _make_ me see things your way. Yeah, your men threw me in the machine without permission, but you can’t tell me things were headed in that direction already.” Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would explode.

“I only meant I’d persuade you- the normal way.” A tear slid down Alexander Pierce’s cheek, “Alice, you mean more to me than anyone else in this world. You’re my  _granddaughter_ , you’re all I have left of your mother. I would  _die_ before I let anyone hurt you. Myself included.”

“I don’t believe that,” she shrugged. It wasn’t something she would ever believe.

“Alice-”

“I came here so I could tell you in person that I intend to live openly. Agree or don’t, I’m either walking out of this place of my own free will or as one of your soulless slaves. You choose.” She turned from the door and actually made it as far as the handle before Silas’ arm appeared across it, blocking her way. “So, slave it is then?”

Silas shot her a warning look and she turned back to her grandfather.

His eyes held only pity, “Wait, just- please.”

Pierce came to her, and Alice’s nose twitched into a snarl as he pulled her into a tight embrace that made her skin crawl, “Are you done?”

He released her for the most part, but his hand remained on her shoulder, and he hesitated as it really sunk in how painfully frail she was. Pierce grimaced, “What did you do to yourself Alice?”

“Take a wild guess.” Pierce opened and closed his mouth several times, but his hands stayed lightly on the bones of her shoulder until Alice shifted and threw him off, “As much fun as this is, I didn’t come here for a reunion. I came here to tell you I’m not hiding anymore. Now, I’m leaving.”

“Why now?” Silas was leaning on the door, still blocking Alice’s path.

“Why  _not_ now?”

Pierce shot Silas a warning look, and the security chief shrugged, “Suspicious timing is all.”

Alice glowered at him, “I really  _don’t_ want to hear about what you monsters do for a living. I get that you have a small army here, I just can’t give a fuck anymore.” She shoved silas out of the way and yanked open the door. Alice hesitated, her eyes locked on the pictures across the hallway of her and her grandfather. The happy, blissfully ignorant child with the only father she’d ever known.

“I ran out of money a few weeks ago,” she swallowed hard, as if that picture drew the words unbidden, “I blew a trucker for a ride and he ended up taking everything I had. Left me on the side of the road when he was done. I walked for two days to a little town, but I couldn’t find anyone to screw for a meal.”

It was a lie- well, saying it happened within the last few months was- but she saw Pierce wince at the mention of prostituting herself. A man who enslaved, tortured, slaughtered- and he couldn’t stand to know what life on the streets had been like. Alice decided to give him a better image, “Usually I can at least find another junkie for a quick bang behind a dumpster, but the guys there had a system worked out with some hookers. They didn’t need me and the girls didn’t want freelancers on their turf.

“I passed a church eventually. It was late, but there were people there. Late night meetings have at least a cookie tray, so I went in. It was a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. They offered pizza to whoever stayed until the end, so…” she took a deep breath, secretly loving the pain on her grandfather’s face. “A woman was there to support her son. She worked in a detox clinic a few towns over. We got to talking and-” Alice shrugged, “they got me through the worst of it. I knew I couldn’t stay clean in hiding, but I want it badly enough that I came here. Fucked a few truckers for bus and cab money, and here I am.”

“The name of the detox clinic?” Silas asked, “And a location?”

“Not telling you that,” it was the weak spot in her story, but she had already figured out a way to cover it. “I told her my insurance card was in the hands of a Hydra sympathizer. I don’t think she believed me, but she hid the cost of my treatment in the insurances of about twenty other people. I’m not going to let a good woman lose her job or be dragged down by you two.”

Pierce looked to Silas for a moment before nodding, “Agent Bishop?” the brunette woman came to his side, “Take my granddaughter up to her room for the time being. Get her some clean clothes and food while Silas and I speak.”

Agent Bishop nodded and stepped forward to lead her away. Alice didn’t budge, “Don’t dick around. Let me go, or chain me up.”

“Just give us a few minutes.” There was no room for negotiation in Pierce’s tone. “It won’t be long, I promise.”

Silas jerked his chin and Bishop stepped forward again. This time she grabbed Alice’s arm and pulled her towards the stairs with impressive force.

‘  _I did it… I’m here… WIth Silas and Grandpa…’_

Her legs gave out halfway up the stairs. Agent Bishop caught her and dumped her on a step impatiently, but hesitated when she saw her face. Whatever shit Bishop thought Alice was pulling, it was clear enough that she wasn’t acting. She was shaking harder than ever, her skin was white as a sheet, and her heart was racing even faster than before. A panic attack was setting in now that her grandfather was out of sight.

A guard in the hall came to see what was wrong, but Bishop waved him off. Alice couldn’t hear anything she was saying, and she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen. She gasped and panted, terrified as she felt the humming in her body that preceded the last three seizures. It wasn’t part of the plan.

Bishop smoothed her hair gently as white spots flashed in Alice’s vision. She heard the buzzing again and frantically dropped the sparse contents of her bag across the steps. Bishop watched her a moment, then grabbed the notebook. Alice’s breathing became even more labored and she dug her nails into her skull, hoping to ride the pain back.

The Agent flipped the notebook open and read what was written on the first page- then threw it to the hallways guard. All Alice could do was hold on and  _pray_ an increased Hydra presence also meant a proper doctor was nearby.

When she left Wakanda everyone (Avengers, medial staff, and Alice herself) agreed she couldn’t be trusted with the necessary prescriptions to treat her condition. Even the anti-seizure medicine was too big of a risk, given her history with pills. Unfortunately, that conflicted sharply with the withdrawal-and-stress-induced seizure disorder. Luis gave her her last dose before she boarded the bus, but she was ten hours overdue now. Her doctor could hardly write out paper prescriptions or forward her medical chart. Even Hydra might notice drugs from Wakanda- but the doctor made damn well sure she was covered in case of an emergency.

A hard-faced man arrived within moments with a needle in his mouth and a vial of something. He threw an alcohol wipe to Agent Bishop and prepared the injection quickly.

It was an agonizing wait to see if a full seizure could be held at bay. The buzzing in Alice’s head stopped several times before she finally slumped on the steps, exhausted and weak. Agent Bishop held her hand throughout the entire ordeal.

“Get her upstairs,” the doctor directed both Bishop and the hallway guard. “Put her in bed. I’ll look this over and be up in a few minutes.” He patted his pocket where the top edge of Alice’s notebook was visible.

Bishop and the guard each took an arm and hauled up their charge. Alice managed to stumble along as they walked. On the landing, she looked down in time to see Pierce and Silas look away. She didn’t know how long they were standing there, but she was willing to bet it was long enough to see the worst of it.

‘  _I’m in._ ’

She was probably fine before the almost-seizure, she’d given her grandfather the right mix angst and horror to tempt him to welcome her home, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let her leave now.

 _‘Useless my ass.’_ She hung her head and hid a weak smile,  _‘Fuck you very much, Bucky Barnes._ ’


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 

Alexander Pierce gave Doctor Johanssen an hour to go through the notebook, once he was satisfied that Alice was resting and in stable condition. He waited alone in the living room as Silas’ men ran their checks and picked through security footage with a speed and precision possessed by truly gifted analysts.

Silas walked through the door precisely sixty minutes after being sent away, Doctor Johannsen in tow.

“Well? How is she?” Pierce wasn’t exactly shy about showing his concern. Two years of obsessively following Alice’s cold trail made his concern obvious enough. His granddaughter was a weakness, but not a distraction from Hydra’s master plan, so no one minded.

Dr. Johanssen sighed, “Not great. She had a notebook with her that’s basically a doctor’s chart- treatments, doses, reactions, notes, test results- but they were more concerned with getting her through the withdrawal than actually caring for her. There are some signs they missed that present…  _troubling_ possibilities. I’d like to run more direct tests before-

“What did the chart show?” Pierce wouldn’t let the doctor leave without telling him exactly what he knew.

“Hallucinations, mood swings, mild hypothermia upon admittance- that’s actually to be expected from prolonged abuse of methamphetamine. Once the seizures started they discovered a previously undisclosed tranquilizer addiction- some genius sedated her and triggered more violent symptoms. Regrettably the only thing surprising about that is the doctor didn’t assume she was taking more than one drug.”

“Skip ahead to the part you don’t want to tell me about,” Pierce said.

Dr. Johanssen flipped through several pages of medical gibberish to a section he’d marked, “I’ll need to run some tests to know for certain, but there are markers in her blood work that, when considered in conjunction with the severity and duration of other symptoms, suggests that Alice is in the early stages of kidney failure and has sustained significant damage to her heart. I can’t know how bad it is until I take a look.”

Silas saw Pierce’s jaw clench, “The clinic she was in didn’t check?”

“These tests and this chart- it’s not the work of a fully licensed medical professional. THey knew what to look for and had a basic understanding of pharmaceuticals, but that’s it. They were more concerned with getting the drugs out of her system- and it certainly looks like she kept them on their toes the first few days. They had to perform emergency resuscitation three times. She was legally dead for two minutes.”

“She said it was a detox clinic,” Silas offered. “A nurse slipped her in and hid her treatment in other insurance bills.”

“No accredited facility would handle a detox this badly,” Dr. Johanssen shrugged. “This was back-alley, probably a cause-crusader masquerading as a legitimate operation. They were effective, and they very well could be duping insurance companies into footing the bill, but even a public hospital would have done a more thorough workup.

Alexander Pierce looked to Silas before turning his attention back to the doctor, “If your tests verify the suspicions, what steps can you take to save her?”

“What steps am I authorized to take?”

Pierce considered his answer for a long time, “Fix whatever you can within the scope of accepted medical practices. Fix the rest by any means necessary. You have my full permission to use Hydra resources.”

“I’ll need her close by.”

“How long?”

“Ideally? Two months.”

“Done.” Pierce nodded to the doctor, “I’ll buy you the time, you cure as much as you can.”

Dr. Johanssen nodded, then left to order his tests.

“Now you,” Pierce waited until the doctor was gone to address Silas. “What did you find?”

“We traced her back to Lincoln, Nebraska, where she boarded a Greyhound bus yesterday headed here. She approached the bus station on foot- ATM footage has her coming from the north. The oldest security footage we have of her is from about three hours prior to the bus leaving- she hopped a fence out of Wick’s Sterling Trucks- a semi depot a few blocks away from the station. She waited until the bus boarded- the internal security camera has her engaging with passengers as little as possible. She didn’t eat, drink, or sleep for the full twenty-four hour ride.”

Pierce locked his jaw again, “Reach out to the trucking depot and find out who she might have come in with. Find out how  _they_ found her and so on. Follow the trail as long as you can. I want every last trucker, dealer, and back-alley pervert who touched her  _dead_.”

“What are the odds she’s a mole?” Silas would be the one who determined that, but he wanted to see Pierce’s reaction. The Director had never been so vulnerable, “We’re close to victory, more of Hydra’s upper echelon has gathered than ever before. The Winter Soldier is in the wind and the Avengers are personally motivated to infiltrate this facility.  _Especially_ considering who we took from that farm.”

Pierce shot Silas a warning glare, “If you find any evidence that Alice is less than truthful, I will respond accordingly. Give her rope, see if she hangs herself. I expect you to find nothing, and I order you to do whatever it takes to prove me wrong.”

“You may not like my methods.”

“  _Everything_ you can do to prove me wrong. I want there to be zero doubt of her loyalty after you’re finished.”

“Then I’ll do my best, sir.”

There was no emotion in Silas’ voice- neither resignation nor malice. That was why Pierce trusted him for so long. He never let personal emotions or feelings get in the way of what needed to be done.

Pierce never knew about the affair between his head of security and his granddaughter. Even at the height of their passions, Silas would have cut her throat mid-thrust if he was ordered to. That loyalty had only strengthened over time.

It was a loyalty Alice’s plot hinged on.

  
  


She woke slowly from a fitful sleep. Her skin itched and crawled, but when she went to scratch at it, she felt nothing.

“Not again,” Alice groaned. “Not  _fucking_ again.”

“What’s not happening again?” A woman’s voice gave her pause. She opened her eyes and saw the most overwhelmingly familiar and deeply unsettling thing imaginable-

-her life.

Every last detail of the room was as she remembered. The pictures of friends she hadn’t thought about in years, the clothes hanging in her closet, the open blinds of the night she escaped. Books in languages she could now hardly recall sat on her desk to highlight the lost future as a virtuous SHIELD agent.

Two years has passed- each as long as a lifetime- but the room still stood as a time capsule to mock her. It was a caricature, a grotesque reminder of everything she was, everything she once might have been, and everything she’d lost when she found out just how close the darkness was. SHIELD would never accept Alexander Pierce’s blood among their ranks. Even if they managed to pull themselves back from the brink of extinction.

Now, even if she succeeded in her mission, they would reject a junkie before even getting to the part about her grandfather.

“What’s. Not. Happening. Again.” Agent Bishop was in a chair by her desk. She rolled her eyes impatiently as Alice looked around the room.

“W-what? Oh, the bindings.” She looked down at her hands and jumped. She wasn’t restrained at all- someone covered them with soft white gloves held on with zip-ties. Her forearms were covered in scabs. Most were from thin scratches, but a few were deeper and clearly bled more.

“You kept saying you had to get ‘them’ out, whatever that means. I had some gloves brought up to make my life easier. You pulled them off, so I secured them.”

“I don’t remember-”

“Not surprising. You’re coming down pretty hard. The blackouts can’t be new.”

Alice eyed Bishop wearily, and the Agent sized her up just the same. It wasn’t like she could overpower a trained Hydra operative to escape- certainly not in this condition- but she looked ready for a fight. No doubt Bishop had heard of her first escape from the bedroom. Alice had no intention of escaping this time though, not without Laura and the kids.

“Agent Bishop to Lieutenant Kent,” Bishop pressed a button on her earpiece to address Silas, “Alice is awake.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Alice tried. “For getting the doctor? I didn’t really feel like pissing myself on the hardwood.”

“Wouldn’t have happened, seizure or no. You’re too dehydrated.”

Alice watched Bishop’s response closely, but her face was a mask of contempt. The young woman  _knew_ she’d seen a twinge of sympathy, a hint of a gentler side when she was on the stairs, but now the agent is back to the cool, hard detachment she wore when Alice first met with her grandfather.

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Bishop raised an eyebrow, “My problem is that today I received an assignment I’ve been gunning for since I got here and now, instead of working on it, I’m babysitting.”

“Which is the highest honor you can imagine and you will give it just as much care as you would have Project: Cadmus.” Pierce snapped from the doorway.

Agent Bishop froze immediately. Her eyes widened and the color vanished from her face. She stood quickly and bowed her head as Alice’s grandfather entered, “My most sincere apologies, sir. I didn't mean to suggest-”

He waved her off, “Your background is mercenary, not Hydra, so you’re more used to picking your missions than  _real_ agents. See,  _real_ agents follow orders, and they may not relish one assignment over another, but they do it without complaint. As for Cadmus- congratulations, you’re off the project for good. Make no mistake, there are hundreds of qualified  _agents_ who can take your place. Now sit down, shut up, and listen.”

Bishop obeyed, looking lost and defeated. Pierce striking her across the face would have had less impact than his words.

Alice didn’t especially care for some Hydra goon’s feelings. She glared at her grandfather, “You had better be here to-”

“The doctor who treated you, did he happen to mention that you are dying?” Alexander Pierce sat down hard on the side of her bed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Kidney failure, heart damage- you weren’t going to survive much longer out there.”

He studied his granddaughter’s eyes, and while a cold shiver passed through her at the certainty in his voice, Alice was surprisingly unphased. It was disappointing- she always imagined that if someone told her she was dying she would… well,  _care_. Insead, she almost feels lighter. The real disappointment would come if he told her that it was all just a hoax.

“He failed to mention that.”

“He wasn’t a real doctor either,” Pierce pressed.

Alice shrugged. The Wakandan doctor and his staff worked on that notebook for hours. If they wanted Hydra scientists to think it was written by a quack, she wasn’t going to disagree. The doctor hated even handing her the notebook, sloppy as the medical workups in it looked.

“I didn’t care if he was real or not. His job was to dry me out.”

“What’s your plan?” Pierce’s tone softened, “Say I let you leave here right now, what then?”

“Find a job, I don’t care what. Make money, start putting my life back together- or as close to ‘together’ as I can before I die.” Alice looked away, out through the windows. It was dark already, “Or, since apparently dying isn’t as far off as I was hoping, maybe I’ll just find a dealer and speed things up a bit more. Go out with a bang.”

Getting clean wasn’t her choice, and while she’d warmed to the idea, the temptation was stronger than she wanted to admit. Did the Avengers know she was dying? Did they keep her condition secret so that she would be more likely to help them? Or… was Hydra making all of this up? She looked to her grandfather and- no, the grief in his eyes was too near for it to be a lie.

Pierce sized her up for a few minutes while he studied her face, looking for a fault in her reaction or some sort of tell. The Avengers didn’t leave him anything to find.

At last, he sighed and relaxed slightly, “I’m not going to let you die. I’m not letting my daughter’s legacy-  _my legacy_ \- end with a syringe and a pool of vomit. I don’t care if you die a paper-pusher sorting mail in some basement, you’re not dying until you are older than I am now. And you will be  _sober_ when it happens.”

“You don’t have much say in it.”

“Not alone, no. But together we have everything we need. We’re going to make a deal, Alice. You want to be free of me? You want to walk out of here and make a life? Fine. WIthdrawal lasts up to three months. You say you’ve been clean two weeks?” She nodded. “If my doctor verifies that, then you only have to stay here two and a  _half_ months. If not, it’s the full three. You undergo any test and take any treatment Dr. Johanssen prescribes, no matter how unpalatable it might be. He  _can_ and  _will_ put your body back together. I’ve given him full authorization to use any means necessary. You will also undergo daily drug tests, just to make sure you hold your end up.”

“  _Daily_ tests? Where the hell do you think I’ll find meth in this place?” she was actually confused by that condition.

“Not in here, outside. You will be allowed out once each week, more often the further you progress in your treatment. Agent Bishop will be your ‘sober companion’. Her job is to accompany you, watch you, and keep you safe. Upon re-entry you will be searched and scanned for  _any_ substance that can be abused. Even glue. I want to know that when you leave here for good, you won’t just go straight to a dealer.”

“Why would I agree to any of that?” Alice’s tone was defiant, but the fact of the matter was that she would  _happily_ agree to those terms. The Avengers were coming, but they didn’t expect to see her until she was ready to help get Laura Barton and her children out of the base. If it was possible to make weekly contact? That was an offer too good to refuse.

Pierce looked down at his hands and sighed, “The first Will I made said that when I died, everything would pass to your mother with the exception of $100,000 set aside in a trust for you. Now, the Will leaves you everything without any conditions. Take this deal- let me save your life and prove to me that you  _want_ to get past this- and you will get that $100,000 every single year you remain clean until I die. Fall off the wagon, or find some new addiction, and you’ll see exactly what happens when I have someone conditioned. You will be the property of Hydra, we’re always in the market for new Assets.”

“So you won’t let me die a druggie, but you’ll kill me yourself and make me some mindless zombie? That’s somehow better for your precious legacy?” Alice raised an eyebrow. Fear threatened to take hold of her again, but she just remembered Bucky- her grandfather wouldn’t survive long enough to carry through with anything.

“Once you’re pacified you can be bred,” Silas appeared in the doorframe. “Or before- I’m not sure if the process would have a negative impact on fertility. Dr. Johanssen will look into it.”

“I’d rather have one disappointing generation than see my family line and all of this fade into oblivion because of your lack of self-control,” Pierce kept his focus on Alice.

She gaped at her grandfather, and Bucky’s face wasn’t enough to hold back the fear, “SO my choice is to take the deal or be  _bred_?”

“Not at all, it’s stay  _clean_ or be bred.”

“What are you?” Alice shook her head, “What kind of sick freaks are you?”

“Don’t forget, all you have to do in order to live a perfectly safe and normal life is to stay clean.” All of that care and concern was gone from Pierce’s eyes. All she saw was a darkness that she would  _never_ recognize as her grandfather. “I’m not asking you to join Hydra or even keep our activities a secret. I’m giving you incentive to remain clean.”

“And what if I decide to never have children? Will you drag me back here then?” She was arguing impossibilities- the Avengers would kill Pierce before the winter was over- but it was hard to remind herself of that.

“So long as you’re clean, it’s your choice if you have kids or not. You only lose the right to make that decision if you start in on the drugs again.”

It’s no consolation when Alice sees that Bishop looks as disgusted and horrified as she feels, though the agent does a better job of veiling her expressions.

“Your answer?” Silas smiles.

Alice wanted to throw up. It took several hard breaths before she trusted herself enough to speak, “I’ll stay here for two months, not a day longer… But one day  _everything_ you’ve done will catch up to you, and I will do everything in my power to be here when SHIELD or the Avengers or  _whoever_ puts a bullet between your eyes. Both of you.” She glared at Silas.

“As long as you’re clean when they do,” Pierce patted her knee and Alice recoiled. He stood and walked out of her room with Silas in tow.

Bishop looked from the door to Alice a few times, stunned. She stood and pulled a knife from one pocket, then cut the zip-ties on the girl’s wrists. Alice shoved the gloves off quickly and rubbed at her arms. She was staring at the spot on the bed where her grandfather had been sitting. After a moment, she realized she was rocking herself in place.

Bishop grabbed a blanket from the top shelf of the closet and wrapped it around Alice. Her charge was weak, and the shock of her grandfather’s words could trigger another attack.

For her part, Alice desperately focused on the Avengers and her mission. Hellfire would rain down on the compound before Pierce could follow through with his threats.

The idea that she was surrounded by living corpses did nothing to help cheer her up.

  
  


“You went too far,” Pierce grabbed Silas and threw him against the wall of the downstairs hallways. He put an arm across his head of security’s throat and applied just enough pressure to remind Silas how easily he could be killed, “ _Breeding_ her? You’re lucky if I don’t have  _you_ cleansed!”

“You were floundering. You want to flush out whoever she’s working with? That’s how we do it- apply pressure and see what breaks.

“And if she really is here to get cleaned up? Your little test could push her right back out onto the streets!”

“Then at least you’d know she isn’t working against you.” Silas rasped as Pierce cut off his air.

The Hydra leader released him- then promptly punched him hard enough to knock the man to the floor, “You don’t improvise like that again. You’ve served my family faithfully for thirty years, but do not think for a second her position here is anything other than a  _privilege_. Flushing out her associates is one thing, threatening to have her  _raped_ and forced to give birth? That’s beyond even what Hydra tolerates. Don’t you  _dare_ try anything like that again, or I will kill you  _very_ slowly.

“Understood, sir.” Silas rubbed his jaw from the floor as Pierce stormed away. As soon as he turned the corner, Silas’ hand fell and a smile slowly spread across his thin lips. He shot a glance up the stairs as though he could will himself to see Alice in her room.

She’ll get a few trips in, it’s necessary for his plan to work, but when the time is right he would make damn well sure she never left again.  _If_ she had allies- if she was only there to stop Hydra’s resurgence- it wouldn’t change what was coming for her.

Even the Avengers themselves wouldn’t be able to save Alice once Silas’ trap was sprung.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 

“OK, now open up.” Dr. Johanssen hovered over Alice with a wicked-looking needle.

She’d kept up her end so far- given him as much blood as he wanted, gone through every test and scan- but she didn’t trust the sheer size of that thing. The fact that Agent Bishop looked as anxious as she felt didn’t help. She was by Alice’s side, her hand on the girl’s shoulder even though her own face was pale.

“Stop looking at me like that. You’re making Alice nervous,” Dr. Johannsen chided. “Aren’t you supposed to be a professional?”

“I don’t like mouth stuff.”

“This is just novocain.” He held the needle for her to see- as if he hadn’t explained all of this already, “We can skip it if you  _really_ want, but you won’t like the next bit.” He nodded to a tray of pliers and something covered in white cloth. Alice stared at it for a long time before slowly opening her mouth, “Thank you, Miss Pierce.”

Agent Bishop squeezed her shoulder as the doctor leaned in.

It wasn’t like Alice didn’t know this would happen- of everything the drugs did to her, dental was probably the  _easiest_ thing to fix- but she hardly expected surgery first thing in the morning after a fitful night.

X-rays confirmed her teeth were as horrible as they looked. Beyond removing the remains, Johanssen had been cagey about how he planned to fix them. Her whole body shook as he stuck the needle into her gums- this time withdrawal had nothing to do with the trembling.

One thing Alice would grant Johanssen- he was quick. It was far from pleasant, but she’d felt much worse pain than the needle. She looked up to Bishop once the injections were finished- her head was turned away.

‘  _Some mercenary._ ’

She ran her tongue over the injection sites as her mouth went numb, “When will the dentist get here?”

“I’m the dentist,” Johanssen raised an eyebrow and prepared another needle.

“Wishful thinking.” Alice opened again. This time she felt a soft, steady pressure, but the additional novocain took even that away.

As the drugs settle, he put an IV into her arm and Bishop released her grip, “Why don’t you sit down before you faint, Agent?”

“I’ve killed, pulled out fingernails, amputated body parts, broken bones, skinned, burned, waterboarded, drowned, and did things with dry ice you don’t even want to think about,” she shuddered and slid into a chair against the wall of the doctor’s lab. “I can’t stand mouth stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Your image is safe.” He flashed her a patronizing smile, “Alright, there’s no pleasant way to pull out teeth, so let’s get started.

He was rougher than Alice would have hoped for, but quick. A leather strap around her forehead held her in place while he grabbed a vice grip and pulled for all it was worth. There was no pain- beyond the straining of her head against the strap- but it made her sick to her stomach. Blood dripped from her mouth, the sounds frightened her, and at one point Alice saw Agent Bishop plugging her ears and staring hard at the floor.

No dentist would remove teeth so inelegantly. Alice breathed deeply and tried not to heave. There was no turning back once he began… Still, she didn’t need the stress. Whatever was in the IV kept her calm  _enough_ , but she couldn’t let herself think about what he was doing.

“All done with that.” Johanssen was covered in a sheen of sweat. He was a fit man, but pulling teeth was exhausting work, “There are fragments of root and of course tissue damage. Some nerve endings were torn… but no matter. This will clean everything right up.”

“What will?” Alice’s words didn’t form quite right. Her tongue was numb and, of course, she’d just had at least a dozen teeth ripped out the rough way.

“First, I need to put a bite guard in your mouth to make an imprint. We’ll do the top and bottom simultaneously.”

“But I’m still bleeding.”

“Which of us has a medical degree?”

“  _Neither_ of us has a dental degree.”

“Shut up and open up, we’re past the hard part.” he pulled a white cloth off of the thing on the table. Thanks to the leather band on Alice’s forehead, it was just out of her line of sight. Dr. Johanssen eyed her for a moment, “Alright, this will be a difficult fit, so I want you to open wide… wider… wider-” he slapped a hand over her eyes and shoved the thing into her mouth. “Breathe through your nose,” he began posing at her cheeks, moving the thing into place.

Alice glared at his hand fiercely, wishing she could feel  _what_ he’d just done. Something told her the numbness in her mouth wasn’t only novocaine.

“What the hell is that?” Agent Bishop stood and came closer to inspect Alice’s mouth, “That isn’t-”

“You’ll want to step out for this part, Agent Bishop.” Dr. Johanssen eyed her pale face.

“My job is to watch Alice at all times.”

“Very well. This part takes about an hour.” He picked up something on the table- a small remote- and held it up for Alice to see, “Three… two… one-” he pressed a button.

Alice heard a series of  _clicks_ and felt a surge of pressure in her mouth. It didn’t hurt, but it felt like she had a particularly dense apple wedged between her teeth. After a moment, Dr. Johanssen flicked the leather strap off of her forehead and tipped her forward. He put a bowl in her lap and Alice watched as blood began to steadily drip into it.

“That will stop in ten minutes or so.”

She heard a humming, mechanical noise from the device. “Right now, It’s digging out fragments of tooth and-” something  _clanked_ into the bowl, a sliver of tooth, “-there’s one- then it will repair the damage done and fill the sockets with a layer of nanite technology. Once that’s done I pull out the cutting unit and plug these in.” He held up a small retainer-like object with a full set of teeth- roots included. “For four hours you cannot eat or drink, but after that there are no limitations.”

Agent Bishop came closer- though she made a point to look away from Alice, “Hydra has synthesized teeth?”

“No, Stark Industries does.” Dr. Johanssen seemed pleased, “Director Pierce ordered me to try  _normal_ means first. This is a newly developed line of quick-healing technology. Tony Stark has taken enough hits and lost enough teeth that at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if his entire mouth is nano-teeth. For once he’s proving useful to us.”

Alice hit Bishop in the leg and waved her hand around vaguely. Somehow, Bishop understood the question, “How much pain will Alice be in once this is finished?”

“Not much,” Johanssen flashed another grin, “I told the cook to prepare steak for dinner. The technology is beyond your understanding- it’s beyond  _my_ understanding- but evidently Stark doesn’t like dinner to be interrupted. It will be tender for a few hours, but the Novocain won’t wear off until after any of that has passed.”

More pieces of tooth fall out- black and rotted. Alice stared down at them miserably, then looked up far enough to see Johanssen’s face as she flipped him off. Her grandfather said she would have to endure ‘unpalatable’ procedures- she didn’t realize that meant ‘horrific’.

The doctor sticks around to watch over the procedure until the bleeding stopped, then gave Alice a type-and-talk device. He vanished into a far corner of his lab to work through his tests. Agent Bishop brought a chair over from the wall and sat down beside the girl, “It’ll be over soon enough. Less than an hour now.”

Alice couldn’t get a read on the woman. When she first walked in, Bishop was cold and aloof. When she helped Alice up the stairs, she was softer, almost kind. When Alice woke up in bed she was cold and aloof again, but ever since Silas and Pierce’s threat, she’d gone back to the nicer mindset. Alice’s presence took ‘Cadmus’ from her (most likely the same project the Avengers were worried about), but she seemed to be taking pity on the girl, rather than hold her grudge.

“What’s your deal?” The voice of the laptop is a bit jarring, but it speaks for Alice.

“What do you mean?”

“You were a mercenary?”

“I was.”

“Now you’re Hydra?”

“I am. Are you asking why I joined?” Alice nodded and Bishop sighed, “Well, I guess it’s because… on one side of the playing field you had SHIELD, on the other side you had Hydra. Both sides were trying to rebuild their ranks. With the Sokovia Accords there’s been an unprecedented rise in vigilante killings of my kind- I needed an umbrella to stand under. Between SHIELD and Hydra it wasn’t even a choice. I’ve always liked picking my own missions, choosing things that challenge me and force me to improve my technique.” Bishop shrugged, “I find that even the criminals with the blackest hearts have the purest intentions- and Hydra is no different. I had to choose a side, so I chose one I already favored.”

‘  _Liar_ ’. Alice could see something in her eyes- something she hadn’t noticed before.

She decided to pursue it, “What did you say earlier? About what you’d done to people?”

Bishop thought back, “Just general torture, I suppose. Nothing too special- it’s all in how pain is applied that counts. Skinning, burning, ice, drugs, waterboarding, electroshock- I don’t know if I mentioned that in the first list. It’s easier to watch. Broken bones, beatings, amputations- the basics.”

There it was again- that odd gleam. As long as Alice could remember, she’d been good at spotting lies. Being on the streets took that to a nearly superhuman ability. Bishop could probably pass even SIlas’ inspections, but she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“And you’re happy to serve Hydra?”

“I’m honored to,” Agent Bishop smiled.

“Agent-” Alice scrunched up her nose and looked to the woman.

Once again she understood, in spite of the limitations, “Agent  _Kate_ Bishop. You can call me Kate or Bishop, I don’t care.”

Alice nodded and filed the information away for whenever she could make contact with the Avengers. Kate Bishop… she wasn’t an Avenger- at least not from the wing of the Avengers Alice knew- but she also wasn’t really Hydra. What was she?  _Who_ was she? Alice doubted anyone would find her in any computer systems- if she were Pierce would know her history before she’d crossed the property line- but she belonged to someone, that was for sure.

‘  _I’m not the only one who’s infiltrated the compound… My mission is Laura Barton and her kids- so what the hell is hers?_ ’


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_‘Did you know he was a monster?_ ’

Alice tossed a sliver of knotted grass.

‘  _Am I a monster too?_ ’

Alice picked another blade of grass and began to carefully tie it. The game was to see how many times her shaking hands could knot the grass before it broke or she simply gave up. Her record was two and a half.

She leaned against her mother’s tombstone in the small, private cemetary around the back of the property. It was at the edge of the tree line- in sight of the main house, but barely. Agent Bishop was inside somewhere, meeting with her grandfather. It didn’t matter that Alice was alone. Even in the shadow of the wall she couldn’t move without three cameras watching her.

No one ever told her how her parents died, not really. Just that it was “On a mission”. A mission for who though? She’d been wondering that since she found out exactly what her grandfather was.

‘  _Were you both Hydra?_ ’ Her father’s grave is on her right.

Alice didn’t really remember them, but that never bothered her. She was three when it happened, whatever ‘  _it’_ was, and by all accounts she’d mostly been raised by nannies anyways. She was taken from their home and brought to her grandfather, to this compound, where she lived through every level of schooling- even through college.

‘  _Maybe when all this is over I could try to go back and finish my degree._ ’

She threw another blade of knotted grass. What would she do with her degree now? She’d been a semester from earning a linguistics and criminal justice double-major. She took those classes to become a SHIELD agent- she did  _everything_ to become a SHIELD agent, only to find out that all the rhetoric she’d been spoon-fed was Hydra.

She’d wanted to keep the world safe and was raised to believe that true freedom was the great evil of the world- but she thought it was  _metaphorical_ , not literal. The line between SHIELD and Hydra was a fine one, but it was a line she could never cross.

‘  _But did you, mom and dad?_ ’

Another blade of grass replaced the one she’d thrown and she reached up to rub at her jaw. It was all pins and needles as the nanites finished their work. The worst part was over and the contraption was gone from her mouth, but still… It was a long time since she’d had a mouth full of teeth.

‘  _Hydra gave you those._ Hydra.’

When she’d left the first time, she’d thrown herself over the wall in a mad scramble and rolled the dice that her grandfather would shut off the security system rather than risk harming her. She thought she could hide until she stopped seeing the lights of the conditioning machine flashing in her vision or hearing the voice whispering in her ear about how sweet it was to just  _obey_. She intended to do whatever it took to find SHIELD, if they survived the Triskellion collapse, and rally the agents back together. Worst-case scenario, she would stand outside of Avengers Tower until Tony Stark told her to fuck off.

That wasn’t in the cards, as it turned out. She was so disoriented, so lost, she took shelter haphazardly just to be safe as her mind swam and tried to force the conditioning back. Then there were the pills to take the edge of stress away, then she was caught by Silas-

-and then something new, more toxic, and more addicting.

Now here she was, right back where she began as if the past two years had never happened. Teeth and all. She sat upon the graves of two people who were more likely evil than good, and yet to her heart being near those tombstones was as much a comfort as it ever was. Two years wasted, with only one chance to put it right, to repair the damage her family wrought.

Alice sat there staring a her hands, trying to make sense of it all. What she had lost, what she might gain, where her future might lie. She was lost in thought when a moth touched her knee. Ir was large, and so early in the afternoon a big surprise. The mother way large with a body as fat and long as a caterpillar. It sat on her for a while with its wings out to soak in the warm sun.

She found solace in studying the patterns on its wings. Swirls of burnt red and khaki mixed with brown. The hairs on its body rustled in the midday breeze. As she watched it, she began to notice small changes in the color- a deeper red within the brown, a gray in the khaki- colors she could barely see. The moth took wing and fluttered down onto her shoulder. She studied it more intently now that it was closer, and was shocked to find the swirls and changes in color formed words-

‘HAND. GROUND. NOW.”

Alice obeyed, incredulous, and lowered her hand until the palm touched the earth. The moth remained in position, but she felt something beneath her fingers- a tingling in the soil. Under the shelter of her hand, she felt the earth give way. It was followed by the decidedly  _unpleasant_ sensation of something crawling on her palm. Something with way too many legs. Way too many  _big_ legs.

A spider.

A motherfucking spider.

Locking her muscles at its touch, Alice froze. Judging by the tickling of feet against her hand, it’s large- though it could be that it just  _felt_ large because spiders were disgusting and freakish creatures who should never have been allowed to exist in the first place. Her heart began to shake as she tried to resist the urge to run away screaming (and maybe chop off the tainted hand).

Slowly, Alice turned her non-spidered palm over and focused on where she felt the tingling in the other- along each side of the arch and moving fast. The body of the spider must be roughly the size of a quarter, but it’s legs are far longer. A wolf spider or brown recluse.

Just as her tolerance reached its absolute limit, Alice felt the spider dash from between her thumb and pointer finger. A large black body ran along the edge of her leg and vanished into the grass. The bug-hand began to itch with a violent, renewed force. Alice looked down to see ants spilling from beneath her palm. The moth was still on her knee, its wings still fanned out with its message. Ants weren’t as bad as spiders, but Alice knew that feeling would follow her into her nightmares forever.

Though, if even a single ant began to run up her arm, she was  _out_.

Something cold, hard, and distinctly absent of legs touched her hand, followed soon after by another object. The tide of ants ebbed and abruptly ended. On her knee, the moth took wing and fluttered to rest on the tombstone behind her.

Alice took that as permission to move and slowly turned the bug-hand towards her leg so that she could peak at whatever was down there. The spider left a thick wad of webbing, and stuck in the center was a small black thing roughly the size and shape of a jellybean and a small silver watch battery.

‘  _No fucking way._ ’

She noticed a slot in the black device that the silver piece would fit into and carefully cleaned the webbing away from both pieces. It took several tries to get the battery inside, but the moment it was in a black panel slid over the opening. She knew what had to be done, even if the thought made her skin crawl again.

Alice psyched herself up while she rubbed the black thing against her leg. Abruptly the moth took flight and ran into her head several times, battering her ear and the side of her head. She (gently) swatted at it a few times before realizing what the crazy thing was doing- it was giving her cover. When she next raised her hand to swat it away, Alice slid the black device into her ear. With it secured, the moth shot up and began to fly around in a disorganized pattern- as if whatever was holding it in thrall had vanished.

“Told you this was a good idea,” a soft voice clicks on over the comms. “If you can’t smuggle in electronics, smuggle them in in pieces.”

“I thought the suit could only control ants?”

“Common misconception, Sam.”

Alice picked up a blade of grass and bit her lips. As she looked down to concentrate on tying it, her hair slid forward and hid her mouth from any security cameras, “Spiders freak me out, just for future reference.”

“Noted,” Scott replies.

Sam’s laugh is audible, “Hey Alice. Boss wants to talk to you, give me a sec and I’ll pass the mic over.” She met Scott and Sam once before leaving Wakanda, as part of a group meeting to introduce the members. Scott was the bug guy, Sam the bird.

Steve’s voice cut in next, “Alice, how are you doing?”

“I haven’t heard about Laura or the kids yet, but it’s barely been a day. I’m working on it.”

“Good to know, but I asked how you were doing.”

“Pierce and Silas welcomed be back, but they’re doing everything they can to verify my story.”

“That’s nice, but again-  _how are you doing_?”

Alice sighed, “I managed to get weekly outings. My grandfather is accepting me back with a sobriety clause. I might be able to report in per-”

“  _Alice_ ,” Steve sounded a bit exasperated, “when you agreed to do this for us, you became a member of our team as much as any other Avenger. Mission updates can wait. I’m asking how you’re feeling.”

Of course she knew what he was asking, but she was hoping he would take the hint and drop it. She felt a sting of betrayal that she was hesitant to admit. Now it felt as if he were holding a spotlight to her face and forcing her to answer.

“Do you know what the medical tests will show?” Alice asked finally. “They told me I was dying, is that true?”

“Yes,” eventually, it’s Sam’s voice that answered. “The doctor figured it out before you snapped out of the hallucinations. You should know- however bad they think it is right now, they’ll realize soon enough that it’s worse.”

“Oh.” It was all she could think to say.

“We didn’t want to-”

“It’s fine,” she cut Steve off.

“No, you need to hear this,” Sam came back on the mic, gentle but forceful.

“The mission comes first,” Alice took a deep breath before they could make their excuses. “Someone else infiltrated the compound. Mid 30s to early 40s, brunette. She’s posing as a mercenary and calls herself Kate Bishop. Just thought you’d want to know.”

Steve started to speak once more, but she raised her hand to scratch her ear and pulled out the communication device. Alice felt around the edge of it until she discovered a small catch, then clumsily opened it to remove the battery. The pieces went into separate pockets, and she leaned back against the tombstone once more.

Alice felt short of breath, like the world was spinning too fast and she was just barely holding on to the skin of it. If she let go, if she gave in, she would go flying off and be left behind in space. Everything was too fast and too slow at the same time, and she was lost somewhere in the middle.

Another moth came from the direction of the fence. It was smaller than the first one, but it flew with unnatural purpose. Whatever message the Avengers were trying to deliver, she wasn’t in the mood to receive it. Alice swatted at the moth until they took the hint and the moth was released. Whatever message might be written on its wings, she knew it wasn’t sincere.

‘  _They’d let me die right now, just so long as I got Laura and the kids out first._ ’

  
  


Alice would never know, but the Avengers’ caution in the graveyard likely kept her from blowing her own cover. As Silas, Bishop, Dr. Johanssen, and Pierce met in the library, they sat within sight of a television sporting live security feeds of  _her_.

“Agent Bishop report first,” Pierce cast a steely gaze over to the woman.

“Sir?”

“You’ve been watching my granddaughter for nearly 24 hours. Have you observed any questionable behavior?”

Bishop shook her head, “Nothing significant. After your ultimatum she never calmed down enough to sleep before Johanssen took her.” A twinge of disapproval flashed across her face before she managed to mask it.

Pierce chose to ignore the silent commentary, “What did you see that was  _insignificant_?”

“Just that when she first woke up, she thought she was bound. She said ‘Not again’.”

Silas and Pierce looked to the doctor, who was unconcerned, “Her scans showed signs that Alice was likely kept in standard hospital restraints for a prolonged period of time- the layers in the bruising say it was for a week  _and_ a week ago. Between her seizures, hallucinations, and a few manic episodes detailed in the notebook, I would have done the same.”

“Have you completed your examination of her?” Pierce asked. Doctor Johanssen nodded, “Can you give a report now?”

“I can, but you won’t like it.”

“My disapproval won’t change anything, so just tell me.”

“Bad news first, then.” Johanssen held a tablet out for Pierce with copies of the tests, “Life-threatening and long-term issues were prioritized. Scans showed her heart wasn’t just damaged, it’s heading for total failure in a matter of months. Same with kidney and liver- I’m betting she had a fair share of toxic mixtures. This level of damage I would have expected to see after over five years of addiction, not two.”

Dr. Johanssen hesitated before continuing, “She’s suffered permanent brain damage. I have a call out to a neurologist who specializes in substance abuse damage to verify, but I don’t think it will get any worse so long as Alice remains sober. Fine motor skills and judgement will never recover. Auditory and visual hallucinations are likely, and her manic episodes will only get worse.”

“She’s hallucinating?” Agent Bishop looked to the monitor where Alice appeared to be doing battle with a rather large moth that was crashing against her head.

“Nothing sophisticated,” Johanssen confirmed. “She won’t see people who aren’t there or hear voices telling her to kill or anything like that, but she will never be quite right. She may flinch away from or strike out at nothing, and Agent Bishop you’ve probably noticed-”

“That she says most of her thoughts out loud?” Bishop nodded.

Pierce looked pained, “Johanssen, before we get into discussing treatments, do you have any  _good_ news?”

The doctor hesitated, “Well, it’s all relative, but… I used some stolen Stark technology to repair her teeth already. She should be ready for solid food by dinner. Tests came back negative for HIV- but I’ll run her blood again in a week just to be absolutely sure. Other good news- my scans show she has never given birth and is not currently pregnant. I can’t guarantee there were no previous pregnancies, but nothing made it beyond first trimester.”

Pierce rubbed his eyes, “So your definition of good news is that she doesn’t have AIDS and hasn’t birthed a meth-baby?”

“For a woman living on the street, that’s actually pretty impressive.”

Bishop sighed, “What are the treatments for the ‘bad news’?”

Dr. Johanssen’s face darkened immediately. He rubbed the back of his neck, “Given Alice’s condition and the time constraints we’re under with multiple organ failure… I think the worst treatment possible is the only one that will save her now.”

Pierce let out a long, shaky breath and handed the tablet back to Dr. Johanssen, “Project Lazarus.”

“And who  _precisely_ do you intend to feed to that thing?” Bishop’s jaw dropped, “It’s an abomination. Worse even.”

“I know, believe me. As the doctor on call for those people, I hate it  _more_ than you ever could. It isn’t something I thought I would ever recommend under any circumstances, and frankly I don’t recommend it now. All I’m saying is that it’s the only option if you want Alice to make it another year. It’s up to you, Director Pierce, to decide if that cost is something you’re willing to pay.”

“You’re disgusting.” Bishop crossed her arms.

“No, I am.” There was defiance in Pierce’s voice, “I am the one giving the order. Dr. Johanssen is only doing his job… Johanssen, are you  _positive_?”

“Kidney, liver, and heart. She won’t survive three transplants, and we can’t do them fast enough one-by-one to stay ahead of the organ failure. Her body is too weak for cryofreeze or reconstitution while we hunt down other options. We could crack the code for super-soldier serum  _today_ and it wouldn’t save her. She doesn’t have the necessary genetic markers for the T.A.H.I.T.I. project, even if we  _could_ get a vial of Kree blood. There is nothing commercial, pseudo, theoretical, or experimental I can find that will save her.”

Silas looked to Pierce, “We’ve hit a dead end tracing her movements. At this point, I can’t tell you if she’s working with the enemy or not. The safe bet is that she isn’t, but… I can’t advise either ay until we find the driver who brought her into Nebraska. A man named Joaquin Cruz brought her into LIncoln, but he’s undocumented and appears to move from place-to-place looking for work. We can’t find him anywhere.”

Even if Hydra did manage to locate Joaquin Cruz (whose real name was James Gonzalez), Silas would never make the connection between James and Luis via his cousin’s roommate’s aunt’s book club’s- honestly everyone stopped listening a full minute before Luis finished explaining the connection. Needless to say, it was a connection only  _he_ considered a connection.

“There are two choices for Alice- death or Lazarus.” Pierce grimaced, “I’m a grandfather second, Hydra first. Still, it’s a hard line to mind… We have four prisoners downstairs,” he looked to Silas, “how many do you need?”

Silas considered it, “For Cadmus we could make do with one. It isn’t ideal, but it’s possible.”

“Doctor, how many do you think it would-”

“Three.” His attention was focused wholly on his hands.

“You’re going to slaughter three-”

“To save her? Yes.” Pierce cut Bishop off. He was staring at the security footage of Alice (back to tying grass). “Of the four, we need to keep Barton’s wife in our pocket. With her, he has the chance to rebuild everything we have or will destroy. It’s psychological warfare- we hold her and they won’t even  _consider_ attacking this base.”

“But-”

“Start with the youngest,” Pierce stared down Johanssen until the doctor looked up and nodded. “If we can get away with only using two until conventional medicine can take over, then we’ll have a spare for Cadmus. If you absolutely need the third, take him too.”

Bishop took a deep breath, which didn’t go unnoticed by Pierce, “You aren’t alone Agent. I do only what I believe I need to to save Alice’s life. You can’t understand, you’re not a parent. I’ve raised two beautiful young women- my daughter and her child- and I’ve lost them both. I have a second chance with Alice. I’m not going to let her go. Hydra will rise from the ashes of defeat, and so will she.”

“You won’t be involved directly,” Silas waved off Bishop’s discomfort. “Just keep Alice from finding out what Lazarus does. If she knew the cost-”

“She wouldn’t run away,” Pierce’s voice was emotionless. “She would walk straight up to me and slit her own throat.” No one speaks, no one can argue with the pure conviction in his voice.

“It’ll take Lazarus three weeks to drain the prisoners, considering their youth.” Johanssen said softly, “That gives us enough time to make other preparations if need be.”

“You have your orders. Get it ready.” Pierce turned his focus back to Bishop, “Your job remains the same: protect Alice from all threats. Even the truth.” He looked to Silas, “Mrs. Barton has enjoyed our hospitality long enough. Separate the bear from her cubs. Make sure she knows what Lazarus will do to them. See if  _that_ gets a reaction out of the bitch.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Clint didn’t bother looking at Steve.

He wouldn’t break eye contact with the picture in his hands. It was from about thirty minutes after Nathaniel’s birth. Laura was sweaty, exhausted, flushed, her hair was a wreck and deep, dark blue circles ringed her eyes. She’d never looked more radiant. Cooper and Lila were laying on either side of their mother in the hospital bed. Clint held Nathaniel’s tiny hand as he crouched next to his wife and family.

Clint remembered everything from that moment: the pride, love, adrenaline, fear, the song playing on Laura’s phone (Dark Side of the Moon), the smell of sweat, blood, birth, and hospital sterilizers. He remembered Natasha’s proud grin as she took the picture to chronicle the growth of her surrogate family…

Everything was gone now. Every picture, every moment they’d captured, was left burning on the lawn. Only that singular photograph survived, and that was because it was safe in Clint’s wallet when he left to help Steve save Bucky.

“She didn’t try to stop me from leaving,” Clint said. “But… that doesn’t mean she didn’t hate me for it.”

“I’ve seen you two together,” Steve said, “Laura loves you unconditionally, and I  _know_ she understood why you left.”

“Did she?” He let a tear slide down his cheek as he traced her face with a finger, “I left her to raise our boy on her own. I swore I was just going to do one more mission… then I left her with  _two_ children to raise on her own, and I  _swore_ I was done. And then-” his voice broke. “And then I left her again, this time with three, and… I was a weekend father at best. I threw myself into missions that had no exit strategy and no SHIELD support. What kind of father does that? Laura is a saint, but… I didn’t even leave to save the world this time. I left to referee a grudge match between you and Tony that everyone could see coming a hundred miles away.”

Steve closed his eyes, “I’m sorry I called you in-”

“Don’t.” Clint set the picture down on a side table, “I hate to break it to you Steve, but I’m a grown-ass man… Just one with fucked up priorities. You had no way of knowing Zemo planned to kill the other super-soldiers and Tony wouldn’t stop long enough to hear reason. You needed me at that airport.”

“If you hand yourself back over to Ross and Stark, I’m sure Tony will at least try to help get Laura and the kids back.”

“I thought that was what we were doing?” Clint looked back up at Steve, “Wasn’t that the reason we hunted Alice down?”

“She found out we weren’t telling her everything.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve-”

“I know, you were against keeping the diagnosis from her… If I’d gone to Tony and just explained the whole situation with the super-soldiers, he’d have helped. I knew that, but… I wanted to fight. I was angry, I lost Peggy, and right when it looked like I had a shot at something with Sharon, everything went to hell… and every call I’ve made since has been a disaster. I dragged you into hiding instead of taking you  _straight_ back to Laura, I devoted valuable time and resources into locating and drying out Alice instead of going to Stark’s half of the Avengers, and I made the call to lie to her about her own damn health… Now I don’t know if Alice will even help us anymore. I failed you- both as a friend and leader.”

“Laura has a kid sister- bratty piece of shit, barely in her twenties- when she was nine she was caught in the middle of a SHIELD operation and I had to save her ass. Took a bullet to the thigh for my trouble. Laura came to the hospital to thank me for getting her sister out of dodge and… well, you know. A ‘thank you’ dinner turned into a date, then dozens more, then a wedding, a family, our kids… But little Kate, she grew up wanting to be just like me, bow and all. She’s a vigilante out in LA now, and every time she’d call to tell Laura about her new scars, Laura would just look at me and mouth ‘  _I blame you_ ’. It was our little joke, except now the joke is on me. This time the best case scenario is Laura and the kids come home scarred for life.”

“We’re going to get her-” Steve hesitated. “Wait, Clint- what was Laura’s sister’s name?”

“Kate.”

“Kate  _what_?”

“Bishop, why?” Clint frowned.

“She’s… what, in her twenties now?”

“Yeah, she was an accidental sibling so there’s a bit of an age gap. Small, blonde, bratty, impulsive, slipped Cooper his first beer when he was thirteen.  _Why_?”

“Scott got a comm unit to Alice earlier. She said she was being watched by someone named Kate Bishop, posing as a merc-turned-agent. Alice tagged her as 30-40, brunette.”

“That’s  _absolutely_ not Katie,” Clint was visibly disturbed. “Steve, I need to get to LA,  _now_.”

“You think something’s happened to Kate?”

“She would  _never_ let someone operate under her name,  _especially_ not if they were going to Hydra.” Clint scooped up the photograph and immediately stood. Steve followed him out of the living room of the house they were squatting in, “You need to find a way to get a message to Alice. She needs to put as much distance as possible between herself and that ‘Kate Bishop’ woman. I’ve pissed off groups that frankly scare me more than Hydra, ones who wouldn’t hesitate to worm their way into just about any organization in order to get their hands on my family.”

“Take Wanda,” Steve was already turning back towards the stairs that led up to a loft he’d last seen her in, “I’m not letting you walk into a trap.”

“Tell Sam and Scott to do whatever it takes to get me a picture of Alice’s Kate Bishop. I need to know who this bitch is  _yesterday_.”

“I will, good luck.”

“You too, you’ll need it.”

  
  


Everything sort of hit Alice at dinner.

Halfway through the promised steak and mashed potatoes, right around the time her stomach decided it had its fill and she actually feels good for the first time in  _months_ , the world began to slowly tip sideways and her eyes closed. Even sitting across from Alexander Pierce in the den of evil and depravity, she couldn’t help but remember a time when that place was her home.

A time when she’d felt safe, loved, and protected.

Normally the nostalgia made her stomach churn, but she was too tired for any more disgust. She was mentally and physically exhausted- beyond the reach of nightmares. All Alice wanted was to curl up in her bed and  _sleep_.

Drugs had nothing to do with it- she knew the feel of sedatives and if someone was drugging her it would only trigger a violent reaction. This was simple, pure, honest exhaustion. Not even the aches and pains of withdrawal could bother her. She was utterly numb- physically, emotionally, and mentally.

Pierce smiled as she blinked slowly, one eye at a time. His granddaughter was swaying slightly in her chair, fighting back sleep. He cleared his throat and Agent Bishop stepped in from the hallway, “You had your dinner?”

“Yes, Director Pierce.”

“Good, then take my granddaughter up to bed. I had a cot moved into the room for you to sleep on.” he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted BIshop to watch her around the clock.

“Yes, sir.”

Alice didn’t look at her grandfather as she stood and left the room with Bishop guiding her along. She didn’t remember going upstairs, brushing her teeth, changing, or even getting into bed. For the first time in years Alice slept deeply, free of nightmares, dreams, memories, or flashbacks. No chills, itching, or buzzing kept her up.

Shortly after 3am, Alice stirred. She wasn’t sure what woke her, and tried in vain to go back to sleep. After a moment it came to her and she groaned. A noise she could have ignored, but a full bladder was a bit more insistent. She was forced to relinquish the cozy blankets for cool air as she walked across the plush carpeting to her bathroom.

The bedroom was dark and silent, as it should be in the middle of the night. It wasn’t until Alice left the bathroom that she realized it was  _too_ quiet. There was no sound of another person breathing, no movement in the cot next to the moonlit window-

-a cot that was completely empty.

Alice was alone.

There was a lump in Bishop’s bed, a crude attempt at disguising its emptiness. She wasn’t there, but she wanted Alice to believe she was. Alice glanced to the door and noticed it was ever-so-slightly ajar. Bishop obviously didn’t know that the door had to be pulled up slightly for the latch to hold.

With as much stealth as she posessed, Alice slipped over to the door and stole a glance of the hallway. A lone guard was slumped in his chair, fast asleep with a half-full mug of coffee beside him. Silas would be sure of his guards and their abilities- the man was more than likely drugged.

An odd noise came from downstairs and Alice hesitated. On the one hand, Steve hiding her condition from her did nothing to change her desire to find Laura and the kids. On the other hand- she wasn’t exactly itching to run headfirst into that basement. Not after what happened last time. A part of her that remembered the conditioning knew that the sound of wood against wood was the secret hatch opening to reveal the Hydra base below. That same part was the one in control of her legs.

Eventually Alice managed to force herself into the hallway and towards the steps. She took each stair carefully and stayed as close to the wall as possible to avoid creaking boards. Someone grumbled slightly in frustration as they tapped on what must have been a keyboard.

At the landing she edged forward, just far enough to peek around the corner. There was a guard on the floor, also asleep with coffee by his side. Another one was sleeping in the window well near the front of the house. At the back, along a section of the wall with white wainscoting, Bishop herself was typing away frantically at a small keypad. Every now and then she would glance over her shoulder before returning to her mission. A screen in front of her flashed with text or files, but whatever they were it wasn’t what Bishop was looking for.

The panel in the wall wasn’t one Alice knew existed. Hydra’s base entrance was further down the hallway. The badge of another agent- perhaps one of the guards- had been discarded on the floor near the terminal.

‘  _So, she wants information?_ ’

A picture flashed on the monitor of a stone-faced woman clamped to a chair with leather cuffs. She was covered in cuts and bruises, a black eye was swollen shut, and her skin was caked with blood and dirt. Under the image was text just large enough for Alice to make out: ‘BARTON, 1 of 4’.

 _‘So… they’re definitely here then._ ’ A thrill of fear went up Alice’s spine. She had confirmation for the Avengers, but also more bad news. Bishop was also after the Barton family, and she had easier access to the Hydra facilities. Beating her to them was going to be next to impossible without help.

Alice’s head hammered. Bishop seemed pleased with herself and proceeded to open some sort of text file- one far too small for Alice to read. She wouldn’t be able to learn any more that night, but something eased in her chest as she slid back upstairs. Part of her hadn’t truly believed that Laura and the kids were there, but now she felt a peculiar kind of reassurance. Putting herself at Hydra’s mercy wasn’t just a suicide play, there was true purpose to her presence.

At the top of the stairs she lid down the hall past the sleeping guard and moved quietly towards her room. As she passed a guest room, the door quickly opened and a hand shot out to grab her arm and drag her inside. Before she could scream, another hand was over her mouth.

“Ssh,” Silas whispered softly in her ear, “ssh, little one.” He waited until the tension left her muscles to remove his hand from her mouth and arm, “I remembered how much you’ve always loved midnight walks.”

“You drugged the guards?” Alice’s skin crawled with goosebumps as Silas nuzzled the back of her neck and began trailing kisses across her neck.

“I got everyone except for Bishop, but I figured you’d escape sooner or later. As you may recall, these rooms are soundproof. You don’t have to worry about waking her up.”

Once upon a time her body melted at that man’s touch. When she was a teenager even the thought of being with him like that would have made her knees tremble and shake in anticipation. At the time she carried their secret liaisons as a badge of pride. It was only after she found out who he truly served that her love broke far enough for Alice to see just how  _wrong_ their coupling had been from the very start.

“I hate you,” she kept her voice soft.

“I know.” he took the edge of her ear between his lips and let his teeth scrape across the skin.

‘  _I have to let him think he has a chance._ ’

She was well practiced in talking her body into repulsive liaisons. It kept the drugs coming during cold and hungry times, and earned a favor or two in return. Silas sucked on her earlobe as his hands found their way up into Alice’s nightshirt.

‘  _If he’s willing to drug his own guards… This could be the difference between getting out of here and ending up chained to a basement wall again._ ’

“I missed you.” Alice groaned slightly as a warm hand slid across her breasts.

“I know.” His other hand slid down beneath the bands of her pajamas and underwear. “I missed you too.” Silas pulled her gently against his chest and moved his hips side to side so that she would feel  _exactly_ how much he’d missed her, “No one else is as warm,” his hand moved between her legs, “or as soft.” His middle finger vanished inside of her.

Despite herself, Alice felt a spark of that old desire waking up again. She was putty in his hands for five years, and spent more nights in his arms than anything else. Their affair was never, ever suspected or revealed- even after she was legally of age. It was the dark, dangerous secrecy of it all that kept her in thrall.

“Silas,” Alice meant to push him away, but instead she wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and grabbed onto the footboard of the bed with the other to brace herself. Her knees trembled as a second finger joined the first inside her, “  _Silas!_ ”

It came out more as a gasp than admonition. His mouth on her neck, his tongue against her skin as he licked and bit- it made her tighten her grip on both him and the bed. Once again, her body remembered how well it responded to his touch. Instead of pulling away, she found herself grabbing his wrist to drive him in harder and faster.

Silas’ thumb circled the knot at the apex of her thighs while his fingers did their work. Alice cried out and felt him smile against her skin. She barely managed to hold herself up with the headboard.

Sensing how close she was to her release, he pulled his hand from beneath her shirt and brushed her hair to the other side of her neck. The heat of his mouth combined with the cool shock of air on the now-abandoned side of her neck. Silas’ fingers pumped harder and faster, and soon his helpful grip was the only thing holding Alice up as pleasure exploded throughout her body and she shuddered uncontrollably in his embrace.

Silas slowed his pace as she came back to earth. He held her until her legs were firmly beneath her before sliding his fingers out from between her legs and licking them clean, “Welcome home.”

“I can’t- I don’t-” her body was still throbbing from his touch, but her mind was clearing and she knew she did  _not_ want it going any further. Alice didn’t need to be reminded of how much she’d loved him. She wasn’t entirely sure her heart could handle reopening the hole his betrayal left in it.

‘  _He’s Hydra. He’s everything you hate in this world… Even though he used to represent everything you loved._ ’

“Don’t worry,” Silas rested his forehead in the crook between Alice’s neck and shoulder- his favorite place to nuzzle, “I know you still need time. I’ll never push you faster or further than you’re comfortable with.”

“Then what was that?”

“Like I said, welcome home.” His fingers rubbed her knot through the fabric of her pants and underwear, sending a small echo of pleasure through her, “And it was an apology for being so cranky yesterday. I’ve always hated how I have to treat you around your grandfather.”

“He’d kill you if he knew we even got along.”

“See? Nothing’s really changed. You can still be happy here. If you leave, we can’t be together.”

“And if I stay we get to keep hiding in soundproof rooms?”

“Not for much longer.” Silas kissed her shoulder.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Goosebumps rose again on her arms, “Silas-”

“It’ll all work out.”

Alice turned to face Silas in the darkness. She could  _just_ make out the slightest of grins on his face, “What are you planning?”

“It isn’t my plan, it’s yours.” SIlas smiled, “Project Cadmus.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he leaned in and kissed her forehead, “you’re the smartest person in this house.”

“Dammit, SIlas-”

“Goodnight Alice. Again, welcome home.” He raised his right hand- the one responsible for the wetness soaking her underwear, and touched them to his lips to blow a kiss, “I look forward to our next rendezvous. Just duck in here whenever you’re ready and I will come to you. We can go as fast or as slow as you want. I’m more than happy to repeat offer a repeat of tonight, no reciprocation necessary.” WIth that, he winked and ducked back out into the hallway.

‘  _What the fuck is going on in this place?_ ’ Alice kept a hand on the footboard, but slid down to the floor as bewildered and exhausted as ever, ‘  _Silas is moving against grandfather, Bishop is… something, and I’m- what am I? Avenger? Whore? Plaything?’_

About ⅔ of her soul felt dirty for what she and Silas just did. The other ⅓ needed serious reminding of  _why_ she’d run away from the house. As a lover, she’d forced herself to see only the good in SIlas and allowed the rest to blind that damned, infatuated teenager. Finding out he served Hydra- it was a crushing blow, the echo of which she felt more keenly than ever. She’d never fantasized about walking down the aisle with that cold, evil freak, but she hated him for taking away the man she’d once loved.

“I need a shower,” she growled to herself, “and a few grams of the purest crystal in this state.”

Silas watched from around the corner as Alice slipped out of her room and headed back to her own. The redness in the skin of her neck would be gone before she could notice it.

As the first shocks of orgasm wracked her body, as Silas brushed her hair aside, Alice missed the sharp pinch of the device he held against her neck. Her cry of pleasure and the long, breathless moan concealed the sound of needles attaching to inject their trackers beneath her flesh. His head on her shoulder kept her from feeling it as he carefully lifted the spent device from her skin and licked away any trace of blood.

He would know everywhere Alice went, and hear exactly what she said to others. Silas’ whispers about Cadmus were a red herring- something for her to obsess over while he put his true plan into motion.

Silas pressed his fingers to his lips once more and breathed in Alice’s scent as he watched her slip back into her room.

As much as she was unaware that he was watching her, he as oblivious to the actions of another- someone who heard Alice on the stairs, saw her vanish into the room, and someone who slid a wire-camera beneath the door to see  _exactly_ what was happening inside.

Agent Kate Bishop.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

3 MONTHS AGO

It began as it always did- a clandestine meeting of crime lords, gang leaders, and freelance mercs… And then a SHIELD raid ruined everything- for the fourth time in a week.

She’d learned her lesson in the first two raids- stay to the back of the room, away from any doors and close to a drainage grate. The underground was dangerous, rotting, putrid, and almost guaranteed to be flooded after heavy summer rains, but that just meant it was the safest way out once the building was surrounded.

As they talked, she’d pulled steel-reinforced zip ties from her pocket. When the weakest gang leader in the room prompted the others to brag about their crimes and acts of devotion to Hydra’s growing power, she kelt and put a hand on the grate. Mr. Chatty might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Wired”. The meetings always began like this. As soon as she saw a flicker of motion in the skylight, she was gone.

The grate was up and she’d jumped down in the pipe before the glass in the ceiling shattered onto the criminals below. In the chaos of bullets, tear gas, and shouting that erupted she held her position- still visible in the cramped pipe, and bought herself a good ten minute lead by sacrificing the twenty agonizing seconds it took to secure the grate with ties. She nearly lost her fingers in the process when a stray bullet hit the metal and exploded. As it was, she got a few cuts to her face for the trouble.

The journey from the drainage grate to the main sewer line was a seven minute army crawl at full speed through slime, scum, sewage, mold, rocks, and rusty nails- not all of which were stopped by her leather coat. An iron mesh at the end of the pipe once acted as a catch for debris hosed down with whatever filth littered the floor, but it had long since rusted away.

The hard part wasn’t getting out of the warehouse, it was getting through the storm drain. If the pipe was slick and toxic, the drain itself was nothing better than a slip-and-slide. High water overflowed to the service path and combined with sludge, making it almost impossible to find steady footing. If she fell into the rushing torrent of water from the storm drains she was dead.

Caution and speed are musts in her escape, but if she stumbled the chances of recovering her footing were slim to none.

A few heart-stopping slips later and she finally saw the golden glint of moonlight on water. She didn’t stop to listen for any sounds of pursuit- they wouldn’t bother once they saw the full drain. Not for a single escapee among more than forty criminals.

She ran for freedom (and hopefully a hot shower). A wave of cool, fresh air hit her and brought a smile to her face as she jumped onto the muddy banks of the riverfront.

“Very good.” The silky voice made her jump. She drew her sidearm before she even saw the pale, bald man in the suit, “Though, you left your friends behind. Marco won’t forget that betrayal anytime soon.”

“Marco was a way into the meeting, nothing more. There was no misunderstanding about that.” She kept her tone light, even though her gun was pointed squarely between the man’s eyes.

“You’ve gone to a few meetings now… why?”

“Too many vigilante’s these days, SHIELD or otherwise. Hydra knows better than anyone what it takes to remake a world- some lines need to be blurred.” She took a slow breath and lowered her gun arm, “My turn to ask a question?”

“It’s only fair.”

“Why does Hydra keep calling the ruins of SHIELD to arrest their own recruits?”

He smiled, “Call it a test. If you’re caught, you fail. We noticed you the second time through. I was hoping you’d continue to succeed. I needed to know if it was skill or dumb luck that you kept getting away.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Silas.”

“Do you have a last name?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “I’m Hydra’s Security Director. And you are-?”

“You don’t know? Some ‘Security Director’ you are.” She holstered her gun and crossed her arms.

“I’m being polite.” His eyes traveled along the thick trail of muck coating her from the crawl, “Though, politeness won’t be extending to a hand shake tonight.”

She considered it for a few moments more before nodding, “I’m Kate Bishop.”

“Well,  _Agent_ Bishop, welcome to Hydra. If you want the job, that is.” He turned and began the trek up towards the road.

‘  _I’m in. Finally.’_ She followed after him, resisting the urge to look back at the warehouse roof where her own ally watched from the shadows.

Her only worry as she followed SIlas into his car was what might happen if Hydra ever found the  _real_ Kate Bishop.

  
  


When Alice finally left the humid warmth of the bathroom, Bishop was sitting in her cot cleaning a disassembled sidearm, “How was the 4am shower?”

“Refreshing.” Alice tossed her other set of nightclothes into a hamper and made a show of choosing a book from her shelves.

“And why did you decide to take a  _two hour_ shower in the middle of the night?”

“I felt like it.” She found the book she wanted and took it over to her bed. Bishop had all the lights on, but she clicked her bedside lamp on all the same.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I  _really_ felt like it.” Alice flipped to the back of the book and started to skim the index. She smiled to herself and decided she felt like turning the screws, “Well, I turned on the lamp and you were long gone. I didn’t think going in for a warm-up shower would bother you so much.”

Bishop chuckled, her side-arm half assembled, and was across the room with a hand on Alice’s throat before the girl had a chance to react. Bishop pinned her to the headboard and put another hand on Alice’s shoulder to steady her- and in the process set off a sharp, jarring pain in her neck. Alice had no idea that pain was Silas’ implant sparking as she effectively cut off the audio feature, “Listen here you little brat. I don’t know what you’re planning, and I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but I will  _not_ let you  _fuck around_ while I have a job to do. Got it?”

“What do I have planned?” Alice choked through the hand at her neck, “What about  _you_? Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t feel  _sorry_ for you anymore- not after what I saw you and Silas doing in the dark.” Alice’s blood went cold, “I don’t know if your whole drug thing was a cover for some mission, or if you’re here to con your dear old granddad out of money, and I don’t particularly give a shit. You have no idea what’s about to happen-”

“No,  _you_ don’t.” Alice strained against the woman’s hand and actually managed to move a few inches before Bishop pinned her again, “Just stay out of my way- keep your damn mouth  _shut_ \- and maybe you won’t die here.”

“Who are you working for?” Bishop snarled.

“Who are  _you_ working for?” They both stared one another down, daring the other to make a move. “Get your hand off my throat before I decide to tell my grandfather that you aren’t the good little soldier he thinks you are. Silas might do everything in his power to piss me off during the day, but remember what you just saw. If I make a move against you, he’ll find an excuse to rip you apart.”

Alice didn’t know where the fury came from- maybe it was the shame and disgust at what she’d let Silas do She threw every ounce of poison she could muster into her words, and every silver of hate in her heart went into the glare that she fixed on Bishop.

Whatever the older woman saw in her eyes, she smirked before releasing her hold on the girl’s throat. Alice swallowed hard- it was already painful.

“You started thrashing around in your sleep, I had to restrain you. It’s unfortunate that I had to put my arm across your neck. Oh well, if it bruises it’s just because I care  _that much_ about your wellbeing.” She smiled sweetly and Alice couldn’t help but feel like she was being forced into place.

“Oh, Alice?” Bishop grabbed the book as she slid off of the bed and returned to her cot to continue reassembling her gun, “‘Cadmus’ is under ‘C’, not ‘K’.” She picked up the half-assembled firearm and pointed it at the girl’s head, “And it’s not for  _children_ to screw with.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

“Clint, what are we doing here again?” Wanda growled as they entered the flea market for the fourth day in a row.

“When we hear from Kate, we can stop coming.” Clint stomped over to the peach seller and growled, “Do you have any pit-less peaches?”

“Still none, stop asking!” The old seller snapped back.

“See? Even  _he’s_ tired of us being here.” Wanda pulled Clint away and walked him far from the rest of the crowd, “She’s your sister-in-law, there must be another way to contact her.”

“There isn’t!”

“How did you and Laura tell her whenever a baby was born? Huh?” Wanda threw her arms up, “There has to be a way to contact her in case of an emergency! You can’t come here  _every_ time you need to speak to her!”

“Oh gee, you’re right! I totally forgot that I have her cell on speed-dial!” Clint snarled, “We  _had_ a way to call her. It was in our  _house_. It’s charcoal!”

“Yeah, that’s smart, make a scene. Attracting attention is always a good idea.” A dark skinned woman strolled towards them from between tents and crossed her arms. Her shorts and tank top served only to highlight impressively toned muscles, and even though she looked harmless with her hair in braided pigtails, a sharp eye could spot her for what she was- a fighter. And a well trained one at that.

Clint didn’t hesitate, “We need to talk to Kate.”

“That’s not happening.”

“You don’t get it-”

“If Kate wanted to be an Avenger,s he would have sought you out. Just because you’re a fugitive now  _Hawkeye_ doesn’t mean she’s any more interested in the job.”

Wanda sized the girl up, “Hydra has a Kate Bishop of their own, but we know it isn’t his sister-in-law. We need to know if the  _real_ Kate Bishop has an idea who might have stolen her name.”

“When did she surface?” The woman wasn’t surprised in the least.

“We don’t know yet.”

The other woman chewed on her lip before answering, “I’m only telling you this because you  _were_ an avenger, otherwise I’d keep my trap shut, but… Kate and I are roommates-”

“You’re Monique? Her girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I’m Monique. Three months ago Kate was getting ready to go out on a mission- looking to work her way through a cartel that’s been bringing in shipments of human cargo. Kate opened the window to leave and Marco was standing on the fire escape waiting for her. His men broke down the door and locked me in the bathroom. Ten minutes later I heard them dragging Kate out of the apartment. They pinned the door to the bathroom with half the furniture in our room, it took me an hour to get loose.” She shook her head and her voice caught, “I don’t even know if Kate’s alive.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Clint nodded to Monique. “We’ll handle Marco and get her back.”

“You can’t take him down. He’s the most powerful crime lord in the country. I don’t need false hope.” Monique growled.

“I know  _exactly_ what kind of man Marco is.”

Wanda put a hand on Clint’s arm, noting his white knucles and clenched fists, “Thank you for the information Monique. We will do whatever we can to get Kate back, you have my word.”

She nodded and Monique took the hint. The woman looked Clint up and down, then walked back towards the stalls and the crowd. As soon as she entered the throng, she vanished.

“Now we have to find Marco, great.” Clint grumbled.

“Do you think Kate is still alive?” Wanda kept her tone soft as she followed him away from the market and back towards the road.

“She’s alive,” he was certain of that. “Marco is territorial, he won’t kill her… But that doesn’t mean he’s above keeping her under house arrest- in  _his_ house.”

“What do you mean by ‘territorial’?” Wanda frowned, “Does Kate have some kind of relationship with him?”

“No direct relationship, no.” Clint cast a glance to her, then sighed, “It’s a touchy subject.”

“I’m here to help you find Kate. If that means going after this Marco guy as well, then I need to know whatever you know.”

Hawkeye hung his head for a moment, then muttered something.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Marco mmph-mummnr.” He mumbled.

“Try again, Clint.”

“Marco’s my brother, OK?!” Clint snapped, “He won’t hurt Kate because she’s my sister-in-law, but that doesn’t mean he’s above selling her identity to the highest bidder if they have enough coin. He could have sold it to the assassins trying to kill Laura and the kids- he wouldn’t even think to ask questions like that!”

Wanda stopped, stunned, “Your  _brother_ is the most powerful crime lord in the United States?”

“He’s a greedy little prick who only thinks about himself. Twenty years ago he was the right-hand man to the  _last_ Marco. He saw an opening, slit the man’s throat, and took his place. SHIELD and I have been trying to take him down since I was eighteen. He’s smarter than he looks.”

“How does he know about Kate?” Clint didn’t even tell the Avengers about Laura until he absolutely had to, Wanda was surprised he would tell a brother he so clearly hated.

Clint waved for a taxi, but none would stop- probably because he looked like he was ready to murder the first person to look at him wrong, “Laura and I were married in  _secret_. Only Fury knew- and we honeymooned in a hunting cabin deep in the middle of nowhere. By  _morning_ there was a bouquet for Laura on the porch.”

Wanda waved off the one taxi that finally slowed and turned Clint to face her, “You need to tell me what our next move is. Do we join the others in Virginia, or do we go after your brother?”

“Ooo, I vote you go after the brother.”

Clint spun and threw a dagger at the man who appeared behind them. Wanda readied her powers- but the man simply caught the blade and began to casually flip it in his hand. He was extremely well dressed in a fitted gray suit, accented with silver embroidery that rippled in the sunlight. Straight nose, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and sandy brown hair- there was no question of the man’s identity.

Two red dots appeared on Clint’s chest, and he eyed them before meeting his brother’s gaze, “Where. Is. Kate.”

“Surely even  _Avengers_ know how to say ‘please’?”

“Fuck yourself in the ass with a rusty crowbar.”

“So, you are Marco?” Wanda didn’t want to give him time to respond to Clint’s insult.

“My friends call me Berny. Berny Barton.” He held out a hand that was  _obviously_ going to be ignored.

“Well then Marco-” Wanda didn’t miss the glint of approval in Clint’s eye, “he asked you where Kate Bishop is. Will you answer now, or do we make you answer?”

“Kate Bishop is a very skilled mercenary with an impressive kill record.” Marco’s smile was innocent, “I believe she’s serving proudly as a member of Hydra now.”

“The  _real_ Kate Bishop.” Clint snapped through gritted teeth.

Marco feigned surprise, “Oh  _her_? Well, she’s…  _around_.” He sighed, “Truthfully she’s horrible company. Too much swearing for my taste, but you  _know_ how much I love blonds, especially spunky ones… Mmm, spunky blonds who smell nice…”

“Cut the bullshit, we both know you wouldn’t trust her. She isn’t your type. Why did you take her?”

“Client needed Kate’s kill record, so they came to me. I sold it to them. Can’t have Kate popping up while she’s in Hydra, so I’m keeping her. For now. The lease on her identity was only for six-months. She’s already made it through the halfway point! We had a party, with ice cream and everything. Well- those of us who aren’t potty-mouths did.”

Clint was shaking, “Do you have  _any idea_ who else is in that Hydra base?!”

Marco’s smile went from one of pure innocence to something wolfish, “If the rumors are to be believed, my darling sister-in-law and her brood.” He gasped at the look of disgust on Clint’s face, “Oh no, did you think I didn’t know? Someone asked for an identity, I sold it to them and secured their purchase. It’s no business of mine what their goals might be. Your family is  _your_ responsibility. Clinton- what is it dear old mommy always said was the most important thing in the world?”

He waited expectantly before answering his own question, “Family. Ohana. I tried to mend the fences- as you mentioned to this  _charming_ Sokovian witch. I sent flowers after the wedding. What did  _you_ do?”

“I set them on fire.”

“You. Set. Them. On. Fire.” Marco slipped the knife Clint threw into a sleeve and crossed his arms, “And I sent more flowers after every child was born. All three of my lovely nieces.”

“Two nieces, one nephew.”

“  _All three whatevers._ I sent flowers to Laura and even made little contributions to their college funds in lieu of gifts over the years.” he nodded to Wanda as if she were some co-conspirator, “It’s harder to set money in a bank account on fire.” Marco turned his attention back to Clint, “You didn’t want me in your family’s life, and yet here I am babysitting your sister-in-law. Now, I’ve answered your questions and you didn’t even need to threaten me. What’s that if not brotherly love?”

“I suppose it’s worth your life,” Wanda smiled and sent a bolt of power towards him, stopping it just between his eyes. “If your men fire, I will simply redirect their bullets into you.” She glanced to Clint, “Do you want him? I think SHIELD is pulling themselves back together, they might want the prize.”

Clint stared at Marco for a long time before making his decision, “No. The damage is done. I won’t risk Kate too. I  _will_ kill you for this if anything happens to them… but I’ll get my wife back and put an arrow into your imposter’s heart.”

“Better hurry, she’s a gal on a mission.” Marco waved sarcastically. A taxi pulled up behind Clint and Wanda- obviously one of Marco’s men. He walked past the Avengers and waited while the cabbie opened the door for him. “Oh, one more thing Clint. I just want to let you know that even if the  _improved_ Kate Bishop told me her mission was to get into that facility and skin her alive in front of your children’s very eyes, I would have still given her what she wanted.”

His smile vanished and withering glare took its place, “Family gets you a foot in the door, but don’t ever think it gets you a free pass to behave as you wish. Frankly speaking you’ve been  _extra_ intolerable ever since that stupid  _bitch_ fell into your life- if you’ll pardon the French. It was only a matter of time before someone did you a favor and took her back out of it.” As quickly as it appeared, the frigid darkness vanished and Marco waved once more, “See you at Thanksgiving, big brother!”

As soon as Marco was inside, the cab sped off.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to kill him? He isn’t out of range yet.” Wanda glared.

“No, I want to take my time breaking his bones… or maybe I’ll ask Bucky to do it. He seems like a guy who can give me some good tips on torture.” Clint’s fists clenched and unclenched.

“Deep breaths,” Wanda reminded him. “Just picture that Thanksgiving dinner- you, Laura, the kids- everyone around the table happy and safe… and Marco there with a spit up his ass roasting over the fire.”

Clint forced a smile and waved a taxi of their own down, “That’s actually a nice image. Maybe I can have Steve draw it out for our Christmas newsletter… Especially with the part about that smut son of a bitch on fire.”

“I’m sure he’s just riling you,” Wanda lied as they climbed into the cab. “I didn’t get the impression he would let anything happen to the children, no matter his feelings towards their mother.” She curbed her words for the cab driver.

Clint gave the man directions and soon they were on their way back to the hostel to collect their bags, “The problem with my brother is… I can’t even trust that he’ll protect them. Saving Kate, damning Laura… I guess there’s one silver lining.”

“What’s that?”

“Nat’s with the other faction and  _not_ here.” He smiled sadly at Wanda, “She and Berny have a bit of a history of trying to kill one another.”

“Too bad she took Anthony’s side then,” just as Clint avoided using the name ‘Marco’ around the cabbie, she avoided ‘Stark’, “I’d give anything to see that grin wiped off of Berny’s face. Permanently.”

Clint didn’t reply. His rage at seeing his brother was beginning to ebb, and dread was sinking in. It was one week since Alice Pierce had entered her grandfather’s facility. Any day now she would be let out for her reprieve. If Bucky could get close enough- and if she hadn’t already sold them all down the river- then there was a chance she could provide word on Laura and the kids, or on the fake Kate Bishop.

Maybe Bucky would return with a picture of Kate’s face- and if luck was on his side maybe it would be someone he actually recognized.

“Have faith,” Wanda put a hand on his shoulder. “Everything is going to be alright.”

He smiled feebly in response.

Clint had no way of knowing that on the other side of the country, Hydra’s Lazarus device had already claimed a life to save Alice’s.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Alice’s whole body tingled, and not in a good way.

It felt like she was holding on for dear life to something that shook fiercely, turning her arms and legs into a wobbly mess. She could feel the rattling in her bones- a weakness that was more annoying than painful. Especially since nothing was  _actually_ shaking.

She was strapped into a chair in a small room just off of Doctor Johanssen’s main lab- somewhere private and out of sight as she endured yet another day of treatment. It took hours to get through, and she wasn’t allowed to move a muscle as hundreds of probes were lightly touched to her skin.

“OW!” She felt a shock travel through the machine and into her body, as if every probe shorted at once. The machine immediately shut off and as the cooling fans wound down she could have sworn she heard Agent Bishop sigh from her chair, “Thank God.”

“Don’t worry,” Johanseen came in to reassure Alice, “that jolt just means the- the cartridge ran out. It was expected.”

No one would tell her anything about the machine they all called Lazarus. She didn’t particularly  _want_ to know why Johanssen seemed to wither each day, why the guards in the halls gave her odd looks, or why her senses of smell and taste were so far off from what her brain told her it should be.

Three weeks had passed since the Avengers took her off the street. By all rights, she should still be more dead than alive, especially considering how much meth she’d been taking the last few months. She should have been a shaking, incoherent, sweat-soaked mess… but she wasn’t.

Yes, the cravings were so bad that sometimes she just wanted to give it all up; Yes, her body was still weak, slow, and shook uncontrollably… but she felt as if she’d been clean for  _months_ , not weeks, and the shaking was little more than the trembl that came from simple low blood sugar. It was a miracle… and one she was too afraid to unravel.

Her days typically consisted of three hours in the machine, another hour or two with some shrink her grandfather pulled from the base below, and then she had the rest of the afternoon to spend time as she wished. Her conversations with Bishop were kept to three word sentences and she made a point to stay in her rooms at night (more to avoid Silas than anything else).

The hint Silas gave her about Cadmus she was about 75% sure was complete bullshit. Alice exhausted the small family library, her personal trove of books, and wiped out the first FIVE pages of results on google.

There was no version of Cadmus’ story that gave her any hints as to what Hydra’s project might be. All she’d found was a bedtime story:

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named Europa. The god Zeus fell in love with her, and approached her in the form of a bull. Europa- evidently a blond- decided the best thing to do with some ginormous random cow wandering up to her was to get on the fucker’s back, because what could possibly go wrong? Zeus took off and ran her all the way to- shock and awe- _Europe_.

Cadmus was just her older brother. He was sent off with the order to bring her home, or never return at all. The man knew it was useless fighting a god, and so he gave up his search pretty damn quick (so much for family) to found the city of Thebes. He was considered a hero- perhaps even the first- but it was his friends who were more noteworthy: Perseus, slayer of Medusa, and Bellerophon, the man who tamed the Pegasus and rode it into battle. Cadmus was just… blah.

The Avengers knew more than she did about Cadmus already. At least they’d figured out it was a weapon.

“How is she?” Bishop was asking Johanssen as Alice waited for the metal prongs to lift away. The always had to sit for a while after treatment.

“A bit behind where I’d like her to be at this stage, but she’s strong enough for an afternoon out.”

‘ _Out?_ ’

“Wait- what day is it?!” Thoughts of the Cadmus riddle vanished from her mind as she dared to hope.

“You know what day it is. Don’t be a brat.” Agent Bishop might have been a dark force to reckon with, but even she seemed excited. Deep,  _deep_ down.

“My grandfather is actually holding up his end of the bargain?” Her heart pounded in her ears.

“Not exactly,” the prongs lifted finally and Alice saw her grandfather standing in the doorway with a hand in his pocket, “You get the afternoon, not a whole day this time. You need to be back by seven. We are expecting guests.”

“Understood, sir.” Bishop replied automatically. She glanced to Alice, anticipating arguments, but the girl wisely kept her mouth shut. Nothing could make her risk her first shot at freedom on a fight her grandfather would win.

“Here,” he reached into his pocket and handed Alice something small and flat- a credit card, “I’m showing that I trust you.”

“And?”

“And as soon as you’re back you’re taking a drug test and one of the nurses will conduct a full body cavity search.” he smiled, “Don’t screw it up.”

Alice got up from the machine and walked to her grandfather, swaying slightly at the unexpected ache in her bones, “Friendly reminder- you aren’t  _forcing_ me to get clean. I did it all on my own.” She patted his shoulder twice before walking past and out into the main hallway. She had to throw on something other than shorts and a sports bra before leaving.

Even though he spoke in a low hiss, Alice still heard her grandfather grab Bishop as she made to follow, “If anything goes wrong, the next body we shove into that machine will be yours.”

Alice nearly missed a step as she reached the stairs.

 

* * *

 

“Well? Where do you want to go?”

“Nowhere in particular. Just park here.” Bishop pulled into a community parking lot on the corner of Lake and College.

“For ‘nowhere in particular’ you sure picked somewhere particular.” Bishop grumbled as she maneuvered the black sedan into place.

Alice wasn’t listening. She was thinking about what her grandfather said- and trying to ignore the heavy, prickling feeling in her limbs. Lake and College was crowded on a  _quiet_ day, let alone the middle of a beautiful summer Saturday. She’d picked it intending to make it as easy as possible for the Avengers to get to her- not that she had much information for them. There was also plenty of cover if they needed to get a shot of Bishop and hopefully identify the bitch.

“HEY,” Bishop waved her hand in front of Alice’s eyes to get her attention, “Damn, you’re spacey lately.” She looked Alice over as the girl slowly blinked. It felt like the words were reaching her through a haze, and taking their own sweet time to get to her ears, “I’ll talk to Johanssen later. You’re supposed to be getting better, not worse.”

“Whatever,” she didn’t even have the energy to put venom into her voice. What happened to that on-top-of-the-world feeling she’d had when the machine stopped? If Alice was honest, she felt awful.

“I was  _saying_ I’m going to hang back so that you can pretend I’m not here. But if you’re-”

Alice opened the car door and started walking out of the lot towards the street. True to her word, by the time she crossed the street and glanced back, her tail was gone. Still, she hoped the Avengers could be as discreet as they’d been in the graveyard.

Alice made it a block down Lake before turning into a waterfront park. It was only a hundred feet or so between the street and Lake Champlain, but there were trees aplenty to lean against and watch the water. Alice avoided the quieter end of the park- a man was sitting against the fence with a book. His baggy clothing, twitching feet, and the weary glances he shot from behind the book made it clear enough that he was a dealer- a bad one too, if he was that obvious.

Alice’s mouth watered and her knees shook harder than usual. She stopped, hand on a tree trunk, and forced herself to breathe as every atom of her being seemed to be screaming out.

“Can I  _help_ you?”

She didn’t even remember walking towards him. One second she was by the tree, the next she stood in front of the man. She could feel the fever burning her brow, the hand she held out to him was pale and beaded in sweat. Alice shook as her mouth went dry and she tried to form the words.

“Sorry dude, my sister’s a bit partied out.” A old hand clasped her shoulder and another man pulled her against his side. The dealer eyed both of them, but jerked his chin in a nod. She had no doubt as the newer man turned and walked her away that the dealer would be packed up and gone by the time they’d taken five steps.

Whoever was leading her didn’t speak, and she didn’t feel strong enough to question him. The ground was rolling and it took all of her very limited concentration to just walk. Something was wrong-  _very_ wrong.

Under the shadow of a tree, he gently pushed her shoulder to make her sit on the grass, “Wha-”

“Ssh, just a moment, Alice.” He circled behind her and put both hands on her neck- one  _shockingly_ cold. The warm hand gently prodded her skin, even sliding between the neck of her shirt as he felt around one side, then the other. The man zeroed in on something at the nape of her neck, then pulled a patch from his pocket and stuck it on, “There you go, now we have some privacy.”

It took a moment for her to connect the freshly shaved, short-haired brunette with the scruffy caeman from Wakanda- Bucky Barnes.

“I’m being followed,” she warned.

The words came out slurred, and Bucky frowned. He had a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, and he pulled it up to look through, “No, you’re not. The woman you came with went east. Sam is trailing her. I’ve stalked a lot of people over the years- she wasn’t interested in keeping an eye on you at all. We think she’s going to meet whoever pulls her strings.” he took out a black tube that tapered to a point at one end with a small square on the other, “Arm.”

She let him hold her arm out. His words were flowing slowly to her ears, and some of them she  _knew_ had to be English, but she just couldn’t understand. She watched him touch the pointed end to her arm, saw the flash of a needle as it shot out to pierce the skin, but the feeling never registered.

The square at the end of the device, it turned out, was a capped USB. Bucky fished a tablet out of his bag and plugged it in. The screen lit up and immediately chimed with results. He frowned, then ran the test again. Whatever it told him made him hesitate, “Alright, hold on.” He pulled something resembling an epi-pen out of his bag and jabbed her in the leg with it.

“OW, DICK!” The words were out before Alice even knew what was happening. With the pain of the needle came instant relief from the dense fog and aches wracking her body. It was like surfacing for air after too long underwater.

“What the  _hell_ are they doing to you in there?”

“Nothing. Jesus, I think you bruised something- like  _bone_.”

He held up the pen, “This is  _pure adrenaline_. Emergency use only. You’re reacting like I just splashed you with cold water.”

Alice shook her head as the fog continued to clear, “I feel better.”

“How long has this been happening? Are they keeping you sedated somehow?”

“No, it’s the first time I’ve felt that way.”

“How long?” he prompted again.

“The last half hour or so? I mean, my bones hurt a bit after today’s treatment, but the fog came later.”

“What treatment? Do you remember?”

‘ _The Avengers didn’t tell me jack shit before sending me in._ ’ Alice remembered snapping at Steve over comms and immediately grew weary, “Medicine. They dug my teeth out and put in robo-teeth Day 1. I keep biting my lips and cheeks. They actually  _treat_ my condition- and tell me.”

Bucky sighed, “You’re right to be angry, and I was against keeping you in the dark for the record. Now, I’m not above dropping you off at a hospital- anonymously. Your blood came back with  _nothing_. No vitamins, minerals, or nutrients. Your skin is-” he cut himself off. “Were you tortured?”

“No?” She pushed him away- or at least tried to. “Look, do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”

He took his own sweet time answering, but eventually nodded. Those fiercely observant eyes took in every freckle on her face, “Go ahead.”

“Bishop is definitely after Laura and the kids. I saw her accessing some kind of computer in the hallway- one I’ve never seen before. She found Laura’s picture, that’s about all I saw. I keep hearing about this ‘Cadmus’ thing, but I don’t know what it is. Also-” she decided it was worth a shot, “-I’ve heard some whispers about something called ‘Lazarus’, but they stop when they realize I’m in the room.”

Bucky’s face fell at that, but he nodded, “Lazarus is probably the most disgusting thing Hydra’s ever invented. It’s a machine that takes all of the negatives of one person- their pain, illness, any disease or injury- and dumps it all into someone else. Think of it as a transference- if you were shot, you’d be whole and  _they_ would be the one with a hole in them… Except it takes two victims to heal one, in most cases. It isn’t a direct swap. I’ve seen it used once or twice.”

“It sounded like even Hydra didn’t want to use it,” she felt like she was going to be sick- and it had nothing to do with the current health crisis.

“It’s a sign of just how evil Lazarus was- even Hydra hated to use it. What it does to the people fed into the machine before they die… You don’t forget something like that.” His haunted expression said as much, “I was there when they demonstrated it for Pierce. Even  _he_ couldn’t stomach it. The person’s body was mangled so badly I couldn’t even tell if it was human by the end.”

Alice knew Bucky could see the dread and fear on her face. She also knew he had a few ideas as to what was wrong with her… and he was giving her space by pretending he didn’t.

“I’ve got some intel for you,” his voice was soft, sympathetic. “We’re running out of time, I’m sorry, but-”

“Just go ahead.”

“Whoever your handler is, it isn’t Kate Bishop. They bought the real Kate Bishop’s identity and resume from a pretty big-name crime lord. It’s safe to say she’s after Laura and the kids as well. Clint is fairly positive she’s an assassin.”

“How does he know?”

“The real Kate Bishop is Laura’s kid sister. Whatever  _your_ Bishop has planned, you’ve got to keep her distracted until you can get to Laura yourself.” He let out a long, low whistle and hung his head, “We’re doing everything we can to find a way in. We really are. We can’t move on fake-Bishop right now, but I want you to know that we absolutely  _don’t_ intend for this to get any more dangerous for you than it already is.”

“Is it?” Alice raised an eyebrow, “I thought she was some Hydra bitch who would kill me the second I stepped out of line. Now I know she’s just a general bitch who will kill me the second I stepped out of line. Either way- I’ve always been in this alone.”

Bucky didn’t miss the bitter tone in her voice, or that her last conversation with the Avengers ended with a similar punch to the gut, “The doctors in Wakanda knew the extent of your condition by day two. Ever since then, they’ve been working non-stop to figure out some form of treatment. Steve didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to scare you… but yeah, also because he was hoping that by the time your condition made itself known we would have a treatment figured out.”

“Gee, thanks. So if I said no to all of this I’d just be dumped back out to die?”

“Steve wasn’t lying when he told you that it was your choice. Help us in this or no- the king of Wakanda is a friend and he’s extended an open invitation to you. There are no drugs in Wakanda, no temptation. They  _will_ figure out how to treat you- and they’re still working.”

Alice still felt angry and abandoned. She just shook her head and looked away- out towards the ocean.

“One more thing you should know- you’ve been tagged.” Bucky reached over and tapped the moleskin patch he put on her neck. “It lets them hear whatever you say and track you wherever you go. I have it on a feedback loop right now, but as long as that’s in there we can’t risk the comm unit Scott smuggled to you.”

“How did you know?” The only thing that surprised her was the Avengers having a workaround for it.

In response, Bucky leaned over and pulled his collar to the side, exposing a patch of rippled, scarred skin on the nape of his own neck, “I dug mine out with a Taco Bell spork the day I escaped Hydra. Before I even had a clear thought in my head, I knew to ditch it.”

“It was either my grandfather, Silas, or Johanssen.” She sighed, fighting back the urge to rub at the patch. Alice thought for a moment, “Bishop- I didn’t _confront_ her, but I made it clear that I didn’t buy her story. She grabbed me there and I felt something sharp digging in… I thought she’d scratched me.”

“She probably planted it herself then. An assassin with Hydra tech who wants to monitor your every word… Who  _is_ she?” He tapped his tablet and looked down at the screen again, “I don’t want you to panic, but whatever is wrong with your might be intentional.”

“You think she’s the one who did that to me?” Bucky nodded, “What do I do then? They’re already starting to hurt again.” She stretched out her arms experimentally.

There was nothing Bucky could do, and Alice knew it. The look he gave her was one of such incredible pity she had to resist the urge to slap him. She wouldn’t tolerate someone feeling  _sorry_ for her.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I’ll stay here until Bishop comes back, and I will be your shadow until you go back into that house. She isn’t getting away with anything else.”

“I’m scared.” Alice murmured, then shot a glare at Bucky, “Tell anyone I said that and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He slid over to sit next to her against the tree trunk, looking for all the world like her companion, “Next time I’ll bring more supplies. I don’t have any more adrenaline to offer.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

A shadow fell across his face, “I don’t know.”

“But you have an idea?”

“I have an idea.”

“Care to share?” She could feel her heart beating in her ears.

Bucky unplugged the device from the tablet and pulled out a case to slide it into, “I’ll get this to the team. Your  _real_ doctors will figure it out. I promise.”

Alice would never know how hard it was for Bucky to keep the secret, but if he told her the truth she couldn’t set foot in that house ever again. He schooled his face into a blank, emotionless stare and answered every random question with only one-word answers. Faster than it should, the adrenaline faded from her system and she slumped against the tree trunk, lost in herself once more.

“What is it?” he whispered as he pulled the patch from her neck and wiped away any trace of the adhesive, “It’s a dead body.” He sighed and stood up. Bucky checked in on Sam’s position- Bishop was three miles away, angling towards the park. She didn’t stick around long enough to see Alice head off in that direction, so the fact that she knew where to go confirmed that the mercenary was the one responsible for the tracker.

Before she was even a mile away, Bucky faded to watch from a safe distance. To the assassin’s credit, she looked genuinely worried as she scanned the park, saw Alice slumped against a tree, and ran over to check for a pulse. WIth a lot of pulling and more than a few sharp slaps across the face she managed to get Alice to her feet and dragged her towards the parking lot. A few concerned citizens joined Bishop and helped her carry Alice’s body the rest of the way to the car.

“If anything happens to her, you die first.” Bucky swore beneath his breath. Bishop stiffened and turned. From the other end of the park, there is no way in hell she could hear him. Still, in looking over her shoulder he could have  _sworn_ her eyes fell directly on him- the lone man hidden in shadow, watching from afar.

Bucky smiled to himself- now she knew that Alice was by no means alone.


	13. Chapter 13

**Trigger Warnings** : I'm trying something new for this chapter, since there  _is_  a trigger warning, but the chapter is kind of  _very_  important to the story. The trigger warning is for "Coercion/Rape" (More on the coercion side), so what I'm going to do is put an in-story warning.  
  
So, before that sequence begins, you'll see  **< TRIGGER WARNING>, **and after that scene ends, you will see  **< SAFE  > **(It'll be more pronounced than that). Let me know if this works for you/doesn't work for you, if there are no complaints it's how I'll handle trigger warnings in the future.  
  
  
 **  
**

**Chapter 13**

Bishop couldn’t slow her own racing heart.

At every green light on the drive back to the base the car behind her had been forced to lay on the horn just to get her attention. Even as she pulled up the drive to the house itself and the gate opened before her, she wasn’t sure she should have returned with Alice.

‘  _It started before we got to the park,’_ she told herself over and over again. ‘ _There were no needles or bags of pills. She had no cash- just the card._ ’

Still, Bishop was terrified as she called for help and ran to Alice’s side of the car. She was listless, her eyes were half-open, but as far as Bishop could tell the girl hadn’t even blinked in several minutes. Her skin was white as a sheet, but with an increasingly yellow tinge. Her breathing was shallow and rapid.

Honestly, Bishop couldn’t tell if she was high or if something else had happened.

To his credit, Pierce waited until Johanssen began to fervently draw samples of blood and tissue before ordering her to search Alice for drugs. She found a small injection site on her thigh, but a harsh scrape from a sharp nail did enough to obscure the pinprick. Johanssen noticed, but he chalked it up to an honest mistake made by a nervous (no,  _terrified_ ) agent who might have failed her primary duty.

Alice would never know how tense it was that first hour after she was brought home, and she had no chance of appreciating how much fear went in to the woman’s trembling hands. As Alice’s eyes slowly opened in Johanssen’s examination room, she almost asked if  _Bishop_ was high.

“Welcome back.” Johanssen is smiling even as he sets a tray with over a dozen needles in it beside the bed and begins injecting chemicals into an IV at a dangerous rate.

“What… was that?” Alice’s jaw was locked and she had to force herself to speak slowly through gritted teeth.

“We aren’t entirely sure, to be honest. Johanssen looked back at the computer, “Your tissue samples leave no room for optimism, but your blood was clear of any foreign substances, so it wasn’t poison.”

“I could have… told you… I didn’t take… anything.”

Bishop let out her breath loudly enough that Pierce shot her a stern look. She swallowed hard as soon as he looked away. It was her job to make sure Alice didn’t take anything, showing her nerves as much as told Pierce outright that she wasn’t watching as closely as instructed.

“Well, we couldn’t very well ask you, could we?” Johanssen did his best to diffuse the tension in the room. He dug through his syringes and picked up one from the bottom, “Alright, give this a minute to kick in, then try speaking again.”

“Will my granddaughter be alright?” Pierce asked sharply.

“I believe so. Her coloring is improving, she’s awake and sassy. I’d say she’s heading in the right direction.”

Alice could feel the muscles of her jaw beginning to relax and used her tongue to pry her mouth open. She could tell Johanssen wasn’t answering fully, but that was nothing new. He was saving his real report for a more private discussion.

“How much longer do you need for your tests?” Pierce asked.

“Once this is all finished up, I’ll give it an hour or two and then re-run them all, but I’m optimistic that Alice will be free to sleep in her own bed tonight.”

Pierce came to her and put a hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry, I wish I could stay, but I have a very important meeting.” He didn’t bother to look at Bishop when he addressed her, “I need you on hand downstairs during this dinner. Around two in the morning, you will be relieved. Until then, I want Alice to remain in this room. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Bishop stood up straight.

“Good. You are dismissed. Eat quickly and report to Sector 7.” Bishop immediately left the room with only one small glance over her shoulder at Alice.

The girl opened and closed her mouth a few times to chase away the last of the stiffness, “You’re making me stay here?”

“Half the night. Just until Bishop is finished with her rotation.” Pierce looked at Alice as if he wanted tos ay more, but with a heavy sigh he nodded, patted her head once, and then left.

“Looks like it’s you and me tonight.” Johanssen forced a smile as he returned to injecting various chemicals into Alice’s IV.

“Oh, goodie.”

  
  


In his defence, Johanssen wasn’t exactly  _young_.

He vanished for a few moments while his tests finished processing and returned with two plates of food from the kitchen. What gave Alice some strength back took the legs right out from beneath him. He managed another hour of work, verified that her blood levels were staying where they should, but once the work was complete his full stomach won out.

It wasn’t even ten when he slumped in his chair.

By eleven, his snoring had reached impressive volumes.

Alice slid off of the examination table and and tiptoed to the door, listening all the while for any sound of the doctor waking up. Instead of opening the door and sticking her head out into the hallway, she dropped to peer beneath it as best she could.

Nothing.

‘  _This could be my only chance to sneak into the cells and find Laura and the kids. To make contact, if not get them out entirely._ ’ The image of crashing a Hydra car through the front gate was tempting to say the least.

But first things first.

Alice slipped over to Johanssen’s desk and carefully peered around his arms and shoulders, looking for a key to the medical supply cabinet. There were papers and files littering the surface, but she found the metal ring poking out from the doctor’s breast pocket.

‘  _At least moving fabric is quieter than moving paper._ ’

She held her breath and listened even more carefully as she willed her hand to be still, pinched either end of the ring between two nails, and slowly drew it up and out.

The key went into the lock quietly enough, but opening the cabinet made a loud  _click_ that for the briefest of moments seemed to interrupt Johanssen’s snores. Alice threw the door open fully and scanned the shelves for what she needed- Klonopin.

Sweat beaded on her brow as she took the tiny glass vial reverently in her hand. Her eyes watered and her mouth went dry. She swallowed hard, unable to pull her eyes from the brown bottle… At least, she couldn’t seem to move until another ear-shattering snore ripped from Johanssen.

As quickly as she could, Alice searched through the drawers of the room until she found one filled with syringes of all shapes and sizes. She quickly took out a long thin one, removed it from it’s sterile plastic container, and popped the cap off the Klonopin. Filling the needle was easy- she knew exactly what doses gave what highs, how much was too much, and what was guaranteed to knock someone out on their ass.

Once the needle was full and the bottle sealed, the real test of will began. She felt sick as she wiped the vial down with the sleeve of her short and returned it- fingerprint free- to the cabinet. Turning the key in the lock was a little harder. Dropping the key back into Johanssen’s pocket took more willpower than she wanted to admit.

The next part was an entirely new kind of torture. She slipped the needle up her sleeve so that the cold plastic rested against her wrist- taunting her,  _reminding_ her that it was right there. It was so easy to get… doesn’t that mean the universe or god or something wanted her to have it? It was their fault after all. The day was impossibly hard- Bucky said it looked as if she’d been tortured- which wasn’t in the books when she made her deal with Pierce. Besides, it was the meth that she’d promised to stay away from, not the sedatives. There would be other opportunities, other chances to save Laura and the kids-

Laura and the kids.

Before she even knew what she was doing she’d coughed, just loudly enough to wake Johanssen from his slumber.

“Oh- oh, sorry. Did I fall asleep?” He rubbed his eyes and peered at a small clock on his desk. Johanssen yawned loudly and groaned softly as he realized he still had three hours of babysitting before he was allowed to sleep.

“I was just going to try and sleep myself.” Alice let the strain in her voice make the point for her and started to settle before feigning hesitation, “Is it alright if I kick my shoes off? I don’t want to stink bomb you or anything. It’s fine if you’d rather I not-”

“No, hey- good idea.” Johanssen nodded. “I’ll join in.” He kicked off his shoes in a show of solidarity.

As pungent as the room became, Alice pulled her shoes off and set them beside the exam table, smiling appreciatively as she settled down. Johanssen checked the keys in his pocket before laying his head back on his desk- this time turned so that it was impossible for Alice to grab them without waking him.

She waited for the snores to start before moving.

Alice grabbed a pen from his desk and cautiously knelt before the doctor. Slowly, achingly, she slid the pen along the edge of his big toe and pushed it away from the one beside it.She moved it less than half an inch, nowhere near far enough to wake him.

The day the Avengers pulled her off the streets (  _tazed_ her off the streets) she’d brought the dealer back to her room to show her newer, faster ways to get high. He’d shown her how to hold her toes, where to pinch to distract the nerves, and where- in the soft skin between- to sink a needle with minimum pain and maximum effect.

She would never be thankful for that lesson, considering what he’d taken from her once she was too far gone to stop him- but in a strange way she felt slightly less homicidal towards him as she quickly slid the needle into Johanssen’s foot and injected the sedative.

His foot jerked at the small bite of pain, but Alice moved faster than Johanssen. The pain set off a reaction that woke him up- but by the time he opened his eyes and looked around she was back in the chair with the needle- now without its cap, digging painfully into her wrist as she hid it.

“Are you alright, Dr. Johanssen?” Alice looked as though she was shocked awake by his outburst.

“Yeah I- I think something bit me.” His tongue was thick in his mouth, his words slurring. Alice’s heart twisted with jealousy for what he was feeling. “I’m… I’m fine. Sorry. I think… I think I’m just…” he muttered something that may have been the end of his sentence, but his body sagged more with every exhale until he was once again asleep at his desk- now time without any risk that he would regain consciousness.

Alice reached out with her left hand, closed her eyes, and yanked the needle out of her arm. She rolled up her sleeve to inspect the damage- there would definitely be a mark come morning. The thought gave her pause, but there wasn’t time to worry about how the mark might be interpreted in the morning. The cap of the needle was by the desk still, and she hastily grabbed it before dumping both in a receptacle.

Once again, she returned to the door to peek out into the hallway. It still appeared to be empty, so she dared to open the door. Whoever came to see her grandfather had to be important- she could see the backs of several guards in the more formal side of the house, but they were facing the wrong way to see her.

The metal door hidden at the end of the hall is the only entrance to the Hydra facility she was familiar with, but there was no way for her to know how to get in intentionally- and Alice wasn’t about to risk some sort of alarm going off if she fucked up. There had to be another way…

Johanssen’s office was oblong, with a few rooms jutting off the sides. Growing up she distinctly remembered there being nothing but a wall where the door to the hallway now sat. Certainly no physician was in permanent residence at the main house, but this was  _clearly_ a lab, and obviously older than just a couple of years, judging by the scuffing along the linoleum.  If this room was part of the Hydra base, there had to be another access point in the lab itself.

Alice quickly looked into the other room she would receive treatments in- nothing stood out to suggest a door. Next, she checked the machinery end of the laboratory- Johanssen was in it often enough. Pipes ran along the ceiling, so she followed them back behind a shelf of quick-grab first aid packs and-

Bingo.

There was a section of wall slightly different from the rest. Bubbles had formed beneath the paint, as if it was slapped onto a surface not made to be painted. Alice pressed on it and the wall slid out with a soft  _click_. A breath of cold air fluttered her hair and exposed an elevator.

It was large enough to fit a gurney in, but not much more. Alice stepped in, shivering at the clinical chill in the air. She was dragged into a closet and down flight after flight of stairs to get into the base. This elevator has buttons going down to sub-level  _seven_.

Alice chose the button marked S5-P1 and prayed the ‘P’ stood for “Prison”. As the elevator hummed to life, she pressed herself against the wall by the doors- just in case “P” stood for “Positively crammed full of armed guards” or maybe “People-Infested”. At least a prison might have fewer Hydra agents than barracks, research, or a mess hall (if she was interpreting the other buttons correctly).

Too soon for her liking, there was a soft  _ding_ and the doors slid open. Alice pressed a button to hold them and listened. There was no sound of boots scuffling in the hall, no murmurs, and no sound of any kind. Cautiously, she poked her head around the corner to take a look.

Given where her mental map put her in the overall geography of the grounds, and the length of the hallway, the base had to go all the way to the fence and  _then_ some. She stepped out and turned side to side, inspecting the cross hall as well. The enormity of the base that existed beneath her feet all those years hit her like a ton of bricks and actually winded her for a moment.

If it weren’t for the spray painted sign on an adjacent wall, she might have gone right back up to the med lab-

CELL BLOCK 1

The elevator beckoned, but the sign- and her duty- called… also, the doors slid shut behind her and no matter how frantically she swatted at them, she couldn’t find a way to get them open again.

When the elevator whirred to the life and left for another floor, fear took over. Maybe she didn’t give Johanssen enough, maybe someone’s found him, maybe she’s on a security camera and the guards were descending right that fucking second.

She didn’t wait to find out. Alice simply pushed herself against the right hand wall and followed the damn arrow, coming up with a million excuses per second as to why she came down there- most of which included peeing herself and crying hard enough to make everyone uncomfortable enough to just block out the memory.

Because that was  _totally_ something an army of Hydra agents would do.

Halfway down the hall another intersection presented itself - and she turned right to follow the arrow. Around the point where she figured she had to be under the driveway, the hall ended in a long row of doors fairly close together. A digital plaque was on the wall beside each door. There were two blank screens between every one with text, but the one in front of her read “Prisoner 1-D: Sanitize”. The door was slightly ajar, and she dared slide it open far enough to see a cot against the wall.

A sheet was laying over what she was betting was Prisoner 1-D, or what was left of them. Parts of the body seem too small and thin to be human, while others bulge out in unnatural and grotesque shapes. Blood and fluids have seeped through the cloth everywhere, and the  _stench_ -

God, that was something she would never,  _ever_ , be able to forget. Sweet and cloying like rotted meat coated in sweat and excrement. It was a scent the most primal part of her brain recoiled from, warning her away. Her eyes watered and she gagged. She jumped back and  _slammed_ the door, then took a loud, noisy gasp of air to try and clear it out of her lungs. It felt like the stench was clinging to her.

“Who’s down there?” A voice- a horrifically familiar one- echoed from somewhere far away.

She cursed herself soundly (but silently) and bolted from the door. Her heart rate exploded and adrenaline flooded her veins as she dashed down the hall at full speed. She could hear the sound of boots on metal, and Alice was more than thankful she was in her socks. As she passed the other occupied rooms, she automatically scanned the plaques- “Prisoner 1-C”, “Prisoner 1-B”, “Prisoner 1-A: Barton”.

Barton.

BARTON!

Alice skidded to a stop, then glanced quickly to the hallway behind her. Any second Silas would round the corner, but she couldn’t walk away, not when she was so close!

Someone grabbed her from behind and clapped a hand over her mouth. They dragged her backwards into a service tunnel filled with pipes and tubes. Alice was slammed against the wall quietly enough to avoid making any more noise, but hard enough that a bar in the wall bruised her chest as her face was forced into the metal, “  _What the fuck are you doing down here?!_ ” a woman hissed in her ear.

Alice was whipped around and came face-to-face with Kate Bishop.

Two floors above where Pierce sent her to stand guard.

She was all in black with her gun at her hip- plus six knives on her legs, a series of long slivers of metal around her wrist Alice was fairly certain were lockpicks, and a heavy looking leather bag filled with tools.

“I’ll scream,” Alice warned her, eyes wide. “I’ll make enough noise for them to find us both.”

“Do that and we die, idiot!”

“It’s better than letting you kill the prisoners!” Bishop actually took a step back at that, surprised, “Yeah, I know what you are!” Alice kept her voice quiet. She could hear the footsteps retreat as her pursuer tired a side tunnel.

“What I am? What am I?” Bishop looked her up and down, “What are  _you_?” Her eyes flicked to the cell door, but the footsteps return. The mission is blown.

“You were going to kill them!” Alice hissed, “I don’t care if we both go down- I have a shot of talking my way out of it. You don’t.”

Actually, she was fairly sure attracting attention would get them both programmed in that horrific room, but if she was going down she was going down cocky.

“You are a  _complete idiot_!” Bishop pulled her further into the utility tunnel to buy some time, “We have the same goddamn mission!”

 _That_ made Alice blink, “What?”

“I’m not trying to hurt them, I’m trying to  _get them out of here_.”

“No-”

“Who do you work for?” Bishop eyed her intently.

“Wh-”

“SHIELD? It’s SHIELD, right?”

“I don’t work for anyone!” Alice snapped, suddenly remembering what Bucky told her about the thing in her neck. Bishop could be recording the conversation for anyone- it could all be a trap. “I was a prisoner in this place once too. They tried to program me- I won’t let anyone else go through that!”

The mask of a lone crusader was a good enough disguise. Bishop had to be some assassin sent to murder Laura Barton and the kids- Alice wasn’t about to give away her status as an Avengers collaborator.

Bishop looked her up and down again, then slowly stepped back. She wasn’t buying Alice’s denials, but there was no time to argue. Bishop flinched at the sound of boots on the ground and quickly fished through a pocket of her suit for something. Hands shaking, she held out a piece of paper for Alice to see.

In it she could make out a young Clint among a dozen or so agents- probably a picture from his earliest days at SHIELD. It looked like a party of some sort. There was a familiar woman standing slightly apart from the rest of the group- the infamous Black Widow. On the other side of the group from Clint was-

Alice looked up at Bishop sharply, then down to the younger version of her, standing there among all of her SHIELD colleagues, “Those are  _Avengers_.” She played dumb and pointed to Clint and Black Widow, “You- you were SHIELD?”

Bishop took a deep breath and snatched back the photograph to slide back into her pocket, “Now will you believe me when I say we have the  _same damn mission_?!”

Her head was swimming- did an assassin buy Kate Bishop’s identity, or did a SHIELD agent need it to go undercover? She glanced back at the hallway, the boots were quiet and slow. Silas was listening for any sound to give away the position of his prey. He was too close.

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” Alice mouthed the words, barely trusting her whisper.

“  _Please_.” Bishop looked to the edge of Laura’s cell door with incredible pity and grief- so close, but now she would be a prisoner just as much as the other woman.

Was Laura waiting inside with an ear to the door? Did she know how close she’d come to going free?

Alice looked around the walls of the tunnel- all lined with pipes coming out of the service ports, and where they met was a nest of them. A nest with a narrow channel just thin enough to  _maybe_ conceal one person. Bishop stepped towards the hall, but Alice grabbed the back of her suit and shoved her towards the pipes. She stumbled and stopped halfway into the gap.

Only the determination and fear in Alice’s face made her step inside willingly. It was a tight fit, but it would have to be enough. There was no time to argue, and Alice had a plan.

She hurried a few steps down the service tunnel, just far enough to lean on the wall, facing Bishop, and wait for Silas. Alice quickly reached up and delivered two vicious pinches to her nipples, then smoothed her shirt down with only a second to spare before he stepped into sight.

“Took you long enough.” Alice forced a smile, drawing Silas’ eye towards her (and away from Bishop) immediately.

He drew his sidearm and her eyes went wide. She held her hands up in mock surrender and waited for him to realize who he was looking at, “Alice? What are you doing down here?” His voice was hard.

“I was looking for you.” She put her hands down and offered a tentative smile, “After what happened today… I’m afraid to go to sleep. I was hoping you could help me burn off some steam? Keep the nightmares away?”

“What are you doing  _down here_?” He repeated, but holstered the gun all the same.

“You said you’d be watching- I couldn’t go up to the guest room, so I waited until Johanssen fell asleep and found the elevator door.”

Silas was  _paid_ not to buy her story- not without every piece of information possible, “And you’re on  _this floor_ specifically because-?”

Alice shrugged, “It started with a ‘P’ and I figured it meant ‘Private’? When I saw the sign on the wall that said ‘Cell Block’ I knew I was in the right place. Prisons don’t have a lot of people wandering around in the hallways.”

“Right place? For what  _precisely_?” He was willing to accept her story… for the moment. Alice knew the second she was out of his sight he would comb through the security footage. Alice just hoped the tunnel was a dead zone and that Bishop had been subtle.

Alice smiled slyly and beckoned him closer. Silas obeyed. She leaned in to whisper quietly, “A repeat of last time?” Her body recoiled at the thought now- after she’d seen the horrific remains in cell 1-D and with only a few feet separating her from 1-A. But if Silas saw Bishop it was over for both of them- he’d know she was hiding Bishop for whatever reason. If he got his hands on the picture-

It didn’t matter if Bishop was there to save Laura Barton for SHIELD or kill her for some other group.  _Both_ of them had to make it upstairs that night. So Alice tipped forward and ran her tongue along Silas’ ear. She pressed against him so closely that she could feel the hardening in his pants.

 _‘Just a quick fingering_ ,’ she promised her body,  _‘just a few minutes. You can do this.’_

Her stomach churned as Silas leaned back far enough for his mouth to find hers. He pressed Alice hard against the wall. His tongue shoved its way past her lips and she opened her mouth to accommodate it even as he grabbed her hips and lifted her up. Still pinned against the wall, she wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively. A hand slid up her shirt and beneath her bra to paw at her breast. The pinch she’d delivered before Silas appeared was just  _barely_ enough to fake arousal- but he accepted that her peaked nipples were from thoughts of him.

SIlas’ mouth left hers and he began trailing kisses down her neck. Alice forced her breath to come hard and fast, and moaned when it seemed appropriate. She lifted two fingers off of Silas’ back and flicked them, fixing her eyes on a horrified Bishop in the corner.

She understood the message.

The heavy breathing and groans were as much cover as Alice could offer. Silas’ head was buried in her neck as he pushed her harder against the wall and ground his crotch against hers. It was impossible for him to see Bishop as she slid out from the corner and edged her way behind him, toolbag in hand.

Bishop watched Alice the whole way with a silent question in her eyes. She hesitated behind Silas.

“  _No_ ,” Alice shooed her with her eyes, since moving her head might draw Silas’ attention back up. She ran a hand through his hair and pinned his head against her chest, buying Bishop more time while he bit and sucked at her breast. “ _Don’t try to help me, just go!”_

Mercifully, she accepted the message. Pity, rage, grief, and shame were evident on Bishop’s face, but she forced herself to slip into the hallway. She held her hand to her lips and gently touched the door to cell 1-A, a promise, and hurried down the hallway as quietly as possible.

“I need it,” Alice groaned, eager to end it all as soon as possible. “Please-”

“No.” SIlas pulled his mouth from her neck. His breathing was labored, “You aren’t supposed to be down here- for  _any_ reason.” When he looked up, his eyes were lit with a mixture of mischief and malice, “You think you can just go wherever you want, whenever you want, without consequences?” His arms wrapped around Alice and he held her tightly to his chest as he carried her away from the wall and towards one of the empty cells.

* * *

 

**< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<< TRIGGER WARNING >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>**

* * *

 

The door gave easily, and Silas slid Alice down until her feet were on the ground. He shoved her- hard- into the dark room. The lights clicked on as he followed her inside and closed the door.

Near the interior door of the cell was a small metal box. Silas pulled out a keycard and touched it to the surface. The metal slid up to reveal a keypad, into which he punched a code.

The door locked.

The cell wasn’t as small as Alice had thought from her quick glance into 1-D. It held a cot, a fold-down toilet, enough space to take maybe five steps in any direction, and a sink. Alice was still looking around, fear making her chest tight, as Silas typed something else into the keypad. There was a sound of metal sliding overhead and Alice looked up as two manacles dropped from a panel in the ceiling.

Her heart almost stopped, “Silas-”

“You have no idea how many night’s I’ve thought about bringing you down here.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and traced her ear with his lips. Silas ground his crotch against her backside as he slowly pushed her forward into the room- towards the manacles, “I’m going to do whatever I Want, however I want. That’s your punishment for coming down into my lair without permission.”

“Silas, I’m not comfortable with-”

“Oh?” he stepped back and Alice turned to face him. “Well, I was offering this as an alternative, but if you  _want_ me to fetch your grandfather and tell him you were wandering around down here-?”

Silas walked to the sink and grabbed a ratty towel. He ripped it into two length-wise, “Which would you prefer?” He held out the cloth, forcing her to submit to him or face the inevitable Hydra interrogators Pierce would sic on her.

Alice glared at him with pure hatred as she took the scraps and wound them around her wrists to protect her skin from the metal cuffs. She held up an arm and Silas shook his head, amused, “Take everything off the upper half first. It’s been too long since I’ve seen all of you…”

She obeyed, shaking from more than just the chill of the room. When her breasts were exposed, Silas took Alice’s arms and carefully secured them above her- mindful to keep the cuffs on the towel.

“What’s the safe word?” Alice asked, voice shaking.

Silas’ grin was even broader as his hand traced across her exposed, vulnerable flesh. He got off on her fear, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you that you haven’t let a hundred dealers do already. Some of it might even feel good.” He squeezed her ass through her jeans.

“Lieutenant, I need you in Sector 7, corridor G.” Bishop’s breathless voice was just barely audible from Silas’ earpiece. She must have run all the way back to her post, “It’s urgent, I think someone-”

Silas smiled and tapped his comm unit even as he began kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his black shirt, “I’m busy. Handle this one yourself.”

“But sir-”

“  _I’m busy, Agent Bishop._ Deal with it or I will send someone to deal with  _you_.” Silas turned off his mic, pulled the earpiece out, and dumped them in the sink. “No more interruptions.” He smiled and stepped towards Alice.

* * *

 

**< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< SAFE >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>**

* * *

 

Silas took her as far as the hallway before kissing her roughly and sending her up to her room, where Bishop was waiting.

When Alice slowly shuffled in her eyes immediately sized up the short, deliberate gait, the deathly pale tint of her skin, her bloodshot eyes, and the tremor in her hands.

“The whole time?” it was nearly three hours since Alice waved her past Silas.

Alice nodded, then pushed past her towards the bathroom and- more importantly- the shower.

Bishop touched three fingers to the girl’s elbow and she stopped, “No part of my plans include that creature surviving.”

“Ours as well.” Alice gave her that much- a confirmation of her suspicions that there was another team in play. She owed Bishop as much for trying to stop Silas with the call.

“He put a tracker in you. He can hear everything you say. I-I saw the mark after he pulled you into the guest room.”

It was stupid, but knowing it was Silas who marked her nearly took the air out of Alice again. She didn’t look at Bishop, she just hung her head.

“I can’t take it out. He’d know, and he’d kill us both. Just- just don’t say anything he can use against you later.”

Alice nodded and walked to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and climbed into the shower fully clothed. It would be hours before she emerged.

Bishop pulled something out of her pocket- a small black earbud. She turned it on and slid it into her ear, looking at her watch. Twenty seconds- that was the longest she could safely take to send a message without Hydra intercepting.

“Like we thought, Alice is an agent of some third party. How do I proceed?”

“Arrange a meeting. If they’re friendly, I’ll know.”

“If not?” Bishop let her nerves show in her voice. She didn’t have the same metal in her veins as her leader.

“Then we put them down.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

“What the hell do you mean ‘she isn’t coming down’?” Pierce snapped at Bishop while she stood by the door, hands in her pockets.

Bishop only shrugged, “Alice says she doesn’t trust Lazarus, not after what it did to her yesterday.” She forced her eyes to remain locked coolly on Pierce. I required almost as much effort as it did for her to stand in the same room as Silas without shooting him in the face… or dick.

“She agreed to take these treatments, no matter how unpleasant,” Silas snapped.

“She needs a day.” Bishop shook her head, “Just one day off, that’s all she’s asking and I agree. When Johanssen sent her up last night she was a  _wreck_. She didn’t sleep all night- as you can tell.” Bishop gestured to herself- emphasizing her own pale skin, the deep bags beneath her eyes, and general air of exhaustion.

It was true- she  _hadn’t_ slept all night. Neither had Alice. The two sat up together until Bishop was summoned downstairs for that very meeting. They’d talked through their next moves- how to arrange a meeting between their two factions to look at making a possible alliance. It took Alice’s mind off of what had just happened, and kept Bishop from quaking beneath the guilt that was eating her from the inside.

“I’ve never seen anything like what happened to Alice,” Johanssen offered. “It’s like Lazarus… backfired. It didn’t do any permanent damage, but it’s like it took a nibble out of her. I have scientists and engineers pouring over the connections right now to see what might have caused it. She felt a jolt when the prisoner hooked to the other end died, but it shouldn’t have kicked into reverse like that. As much as I hate to lose a day now that we’ve begun, Alice’s condition won’t enter its final phases for a few months. Losing one day won’t put us far enough off schedule to matter. If anything, it gives us more time to make sure the device is safe.”

Pierce considered it, then sighed, “Bishop, take Alice off-property for the day. Tell her it’s an apology for yesterday. Me acknowledging things went wrong. Tomorrow she is back in that machine, willing or unwilling. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Bishop pulled her hands from her pockets and nodded, heart pounding.

“You’re dismissed.” She left the room, carefully measuring her pace to not appear too eager.

Pierce looked to Silas, “My meeting with General Ryker went well last night. He’s willing to send more of his Gifted soldiers to remain here in permanent residence.”

“You really think the Avengers are going to attack without securing the hostages first?”

Pierce nodded, “I know you think I’m overestimating the threat they pose, but I’d rather assume they decide to approach the situation as Hydra would- weigh all those so-called ‘innocent’ lives against that of Mrs. Barton and her ilk, and attack anyways. They have the Winter Soldier. I don’t care if I have to leave a lieutenant or three out in the cold when Doomsday comes, their sacrifice will be worth it if it means Cadmus is secure to go ahead as planned. General Ryker’s soldiers will be our shield.”

“I’ll go make the arrangements for their arrival.”

“I’ll figure out why the machine tried to eat Alice!” Johanssen called as both men turned and left without so much as a backwards glance.

 

* * *

 

Alice sat alone in a booth at the back of a dingy restaurant, giving off that special air of ‘Fuck You’ that was uniquely hers. It was guaranteed to keep even the waiter away as she nursed a cup of coffee that had somehow arrived both burnt  _and_ cold.

Bishop was long gone- off to prepare for the meet. It had to happen while they were out for the day, so neither team had a chance to prepare, plot, or scheme. Alice’s side got to choose the location and time, Bishop’s people would come when called. It was one of the things they’d discussed in that long, sleepless night (with Alice writing her responses).

What Silas did in that cell… he wasn’t wrong when he said it wasn’t something she’d  _allowed_ dealers to do to her in lieu of payment. But that was the key word, wasn’t it?  _Allowed_. Silas hadn’t given her any choice, and no matter how many times she  _begged_ him to stop, he hadn’t.

Another rape. Another scar on her soul… a scar her tired, broken mind was far too willing to block out.

Any time she dared to remember what happened, Alice felt a gaping maw open inside her. A sick, wrenching feeling that made the darkest corners of her mind whisper with other memories she didn’t want. Other pieces of a puzzle she couldn’t let herself solve. The body of Prisoner 1-D. Everything Bucky told her about Lazarus. Only four occupied cells, including 1-D. Four Bartons missing.

One dead.

Did Laura know how close she’d come to freedom that night? Did she know what was happening in the empty cell beside hers? How Silas typed on that keypad over and over again to summon every restraint and tool he could? Did she hear Alice scream as he took what he wanted?

The maw opened again, and Alice quickly took a drink of the rancid coffee.

“I  _promise_ we can offer better than that.” A bearded black man slipped into the chair across from hers with an amiable grin. His voice was deep and gruff.

Alice with in absolutely no mood to endure another man’s looks or taunts, “Fuck yourself with a lead pipe.”

“Now that’s just cold, Alice.” The deep voice vanished, replaced with one a little higher and infinitely more familiar. Beneath his disguise, Sam Wilson winked.

Alice let out her breath in a whoosh. He was wearing a false beard and padding to hide his form, but even through the wig and false teeth she could see the familiar, kind crinkle of his eyes.

“S-sorry. I didn’t recognize you.” She pulled up her defences and tried her best to hide the pain in her eyes.

“Want to talk about it, or want me to pretend you look anywhere near alright?”

“Pretend. Please,” her voice broke.

“Alright then. What do you say to coffee that’s at least warm?”

“Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

Clint hit the ground hard and rolled a good ten feet before Wanda managed to latch onto him with her power and stop his body. Her exit from the trunk of the moving bus was more dignified, and she walked casually to her friend as her power snapped back.

He groaned and cursed the entire time it took him to stand, “That was fun.”

“I could have blown out the tire or locked up the wheels,” Wanda reminded him. She followed Clint over to a storm drain and they slid down towards the edge of Lake Champlain, well out of sight of the road.

“They’d have stopped the bus to see what was wrong and  _someone_ would have seen us get out of the trunk. Besides, I was tired of being wedged between people’s shit.”

“Whine, whine, whine. Wanda, I don’t know how you put up with him.” Bucky stepped out from a storm drain as they reached the edge.

Wanda smirked, “Every day is a new trial.”

“How far is the base?” Clint ignored Bucky’s attempt at light-hearted conversation. He was in the same city as Laura. So incredibly close that he could almost feel her waiting. The nightmare was no closer to being over, but it was a start.

“Twenty minutes that way,” Bucky jerked his head up the road. “Your bus passed it on the way into town.”

“Good.” Wanda interrupted before Clint could say anything about time wasted or suggest they do something stupid like jog there. “We could both stand to stretch a bit after two days.” She rubbed her back to emphasize how sore it was. Wanda took a step and a jolt went from her hip to her spine.

“Any updates on Alice?” Clint asked as he forced himself to walk. Judging by the wince of discomfort he felt the same pains as Wanda.

“It’s funny you should say that. Sam’s bringing her in now.”

Wanda nearly stopped, “Why?”

“We don’t know. Scott saw her leave the base with Fake-Bishop, then left her alone. Sam says she wants to talk to us- and we’re supposed to pretend she doesn’t look like shit.”

“What happened?” Clint asked.

Bucky hesitated, “My bet is something to do with that Silas creep. And if Sam is saying she doesn’t want to talk about it… It has to be bad.”

“I can’t wait until we get to kill him.” Clint growled. “Do you know why she wants the meeting?”

Bucky sighed, “Yesterday Bishop cloaked her movements, made Alice think she was being followed. This time she took her to a shitty restaurant and blatantly left. Something changed. I’m betting Bishop is convincing Alice we should sit down with her people for a nice, friendly ambush.”

“You mean ‘meeting’?” Wanda asked.

“Same thing.”

Clint hated the idea, but he didn’t want to dismiss it offhand. A chance to see who ‘Bishop’ was? Who she worked for?

“Are we at that point? The risking-new-allies point?”

Bucky shrugged, “That’s up to you. We’ll go with whatever you decide, and we’ll keep you from doing anything stupid… but it’s a dice roll now. Either Bishop really is clean and we have the same mission, or Bishop is an assassin who mistook Alice for a sympathizer to her cause… or she  _is_ Hydra and it’s all a trap to figure out who Alice is working with.”

Clint hung his head, but kept walking, “I’ll decide once I hear what she has to say.”

“You’re the boss.”

Clint’s heart pounded as he walked away from his family and back towards the edge of the city. It was stupid- they were underground half an hour’s drive from his position… and he was no more capable of getting them than he was capable of controlling the sun. It physically pained him to backtrack, “I’m not sure I’ve got the clearest head right now.”

“It doesn’t matter. We do.” Wanda patted him on the shoulder.

 

* * *

 

“How are you? You ok?” Clint greeted Alice with a bear hug.

“I’m alright,” she lied. “I”m alive.” Her gut twisted again at the thought of that body in the cell, but she pushed it back and pulled the neck of her shirt aside for a moment to show him the patch blocking Silas’ listening device.

Bucky wrapped his metal arm around her shoulders in a half-hug- then hesitated. His eyes flicked over her wrists- still a bit red from last night- and up her thin arms to Alice’s eyes. HE knew. She didn’t want to know how much he’d figured out, but the Winter Soldier was better than most at putting clues together.

He sighed, then pulled Alice into a stronger hug, “His death won’t be pretty.”

“Promise?”

Alice shook Wanda’s hand- the only Avenger of the group she hadn’t met, and let them lead her back into the loft.

Bucky wanted a warehouse, something low-profile with lots of piles of concrete and rebar to use as emergency weapons. Sam wanted to camp in the woods, off the grid entirely in case Hydra  _or_ Stark came looking for them. Steve wanted a dingy motel where no one might look twice at the group and where it wouldn’t look too out of place for an ex-junkie to come crawling if Alice had to make it back to deliver reports.

They’d discussed it at length in Wakanda, and T’Challa offered to help find the perfect place while the Avengers were en-route.

The King ordered for them a large, open loft near the edge of town. The neighborhood was hipster-chic with rotted buildings gutted for high-end shops and homes- but it still tended towards the darker side after nightfall. The loft was mostly exposed brick with thick carpets, a minimalist kitchen, three bedrooms, glass walls, and a 360 degree view of the city.

Alice accepted a mug of coffee from Sam (as promised, hot and better than the diner’s), and led the Avengers to a large sitting area. Only when everyone was settled did she begin to speak.

“Last night I got close,” Alice told Clint. He held his breath, “I could have touched the door to her cell. They’re keeping Laura separate from the kids-” that painful maw opened again. “The Cells have drains in the floor, and with the right codes manacles come out of the ceiling or walls. You can also order tools. There has to be a chute somewhere, so if I can figure out where the tools are coming from, that could be an alternate way in.”

Scott- the bug guy- nodded, “If there’s any way you could get your hands on the blueprint of the cells, I might be able to figure out a way to open the chute from the outside and bypass the keypad’s control entirely.”

Alice nodded. “I’ll try.” She took a deep breath, time for the hard part, “I screwed up, made a noise. I would have been caught if it wasn’t for Bishop- or whoever she is. She pulled me into a utility tunnel. She had a bag with her- tools- and she was in a stealth suit. It looked like Bishop was planning on breaking in. When she left the tunnel, she stopped to kiss her hand and touch it to the door.”

Clint was already considering every possibility- if ‘Bishop’ had a reputation for kissing her victims it certainly shortened the list of who she might be. “Marco  didn’t give us anything to go on when it came to an identity.”

“Well, I might have something. Bishop showed me a picture she had on her- it had you in it, Black Widow,  _her_ , and a bunch of agents around you. Some kind of party, I think?”

That got Clint’s attention, “Ex-SHIELD? How old did I look?”

“Younger than you are now.” Alice shrugged, “Black Widow had long hair, if that helps.”

Clint waved it off, “Nat kept the long hair until just a few years ago.” he rubbed his chin, “So Bishop is ex-SHIELD, she knows Nat and I, and…” he shook his head again, “I don’t know anyone at SHIELD who would risk their lives for Laura. Just Nat or Coulson- and he’s dead. If Nat was playing Bishop, Pierce would recognize her and Marco would be dead.”

“Hydra could detect a holo-mask in their own base  _easily_.” Bucky offered. “She wouldn’t last ten minutes with a fake face.”

“There was… an incident.” Alice felt herself going pale. Her voice was quiet and trembled slightly, but she pressed on, “I made Bishop leave me behind. I played distraction for her. It was my idea, and it saved our lives, but… She tried to save me from it, as much as she could without blowing cover. She’s convinced we have the same mission, and she wants to meet you all. She doesn’t know who I’m working with- but yeah.”

No one looked surprised at all, not even Steve. He just nodded to Bucky, “Corner of Riverside and US-2. There’s a warehouse there.”

“It’s a nice area, that’s hardly a good place for a firefight.” Sam shot back. The spot Steve was talking about was one of the few buildings left they hadn’t converted to apartments yet.

“Yeah, it’s a shitty spot.” Bucky agreed. “That means whoever Bishop works for won’t have had time to scout it out. The warehouse they want us to pick is by the railyard. It would have been my first choice. They could be there right now, getting ready for an ambush.”

“Civilians will be hurt if this goes south.” Clint joined Sam in protest.

“It won’t get to that point.” Bucky said. “I go with Alice, Clint stays up high and looks for snipers, Steve handles the meet. Scott- you can lock down the building, and Wanda and Sam will keep it from spilling out onto the streets. The least recognizable of us- and Steve- meet Bishop. The rest contain the mess and make sure we win the ambush.”

“You’re hardly among the ‘least recognizable’,” Wanda pointed out. “My face was barely on the news compared to yours when everything went to shit.”

Bucky shrugged, “You have an action figure. I have a fresh haircut and a Wakandan arm. I’ll be fine. We haven’t gotten a clear shot of Bishop’s face yet. If she’s someone dangerous and we can’t risk killing her, Clint can at least identify her without outing Alice as an Avengers-sympathizer. If Hydra tortures Bishop, I don’t want her to be able to give anything up.”

All eyes turned to Clint, the one who would have the final say in their plans. Bucky wasn’t joking when he said Hawkeye was the boss. His family, his mission, his choice.

Even Alice watched and waited while he considered, “I need to know what the playing field looks like. She doesn’t know we’re Avengers, and she doesn’t know how many of us there are. Hopefully her team isn’t as good as ours, but we need to know. Putting Steve out sends a message, it might be enough for her to rethink any planned attacks. I say we go for it.”

“How do you contact her?” Steve looked to Alice.

Alice leaned back to check a wall clock and downed the rest of her coffee, “I go back to the cafe and wait. She’ll come to me, and I’ll take her to the location.” Sam made to stand at the same time as her, but Alice waved him off, “I’ll walk alone. It gives you more time to get there and get ready.”

“Good luck,” Bucky stood to walk her to the door and offered one last comforting hug. “Even if you don’t see us, we’re always there to make sure you’re safe if things get bad. We failed you last night. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Alice swallowed hard, not sure what to say.

“I’ll meet you two outside the warehouse and escort you in. If they have a sniper, we will leave an opening for them as well. She could be a friend or an enemy. Either way, after today things will be a lot simpler.”

Alice’s voice was so quiet she didn’t think Bucky would be able to hear her when she spoke, “I think one of the kids is-”

“Don’t say it.” He silenced her quickly, “We need hope right now. Don’t say it.”

Alice nodded, “I’ll see you at the warehouse.”

“Chin up. Today we might get to kill some bad guys.” Bucky offered a tense smile.

“I don’t kill. Not even bad guys.”

He winked, smiled darkly, and opened the door, “You’re missing out.”

 

* * *

 

Bishop slid into the chair across from Alice so quickly she was  _glad_ Bucky or Sam didn’t come to drop her off. She must have been waiting, “Where are we meeting?”

“A warehouse on the corner of Riverside and US-2.”

Bucky would have taken immense satisfaction at the frustration on Bishops face, “That’s a residential area.”

“Planning an attack?” Alice asked innocently. “If it’s just a meeting, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Bishop laughed bitterly, “You don’t trust me or mine,I don’t trust you or yours.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek, “I guess if anything makes us all behave, it’s civilian casualties.” She pulled out a cell phone to text the address to her team.

“It’s a fifteen minute walk, we’ll meet them there.”

“The idea was that we all meet on even ground. Not that your side gets to set up an ambush.”

“Trust me, you could bring an army  _and_ have a week head start. It still wouldn’t be even ground.” Alice feigned confidence as she walked back out of the dingy place and headed up the street. The woman at her side was drawn and tense.

Bishop didn’t speak as they walked. She occasionally looked for signs of some follower- a Hydra spy maybe- but no one paid the two any attention as they entered the edge of a neighborhood filled with cute little houses. Alice was well aware she looked like a recovering junkie and her sponsor out for a stroll- or a girl and her much older sister.

“How did you know him?” Alice asked at last.

She knew who the girl meant- Clint, “Doesn’t matter.”

“You knew two Avengers. I think it’s worth a story.”

“No, it isn’t.” She was on the defensive again. The relative truce the two had called after Alice’s ordeal with Silas wasn’t enough to stand against the strain of walking into a possible firefight. Bishop was obviously reconsidering being so friendly with the girl.

Alice saw the warehouse roof ahead. She and Bishop were mirror images of one another. Both drawn, pale, and both trying to pretend their hearts weren’t beating in their ears. Bishop’s loose fitting blazer hid any weapons she might have strapped on, and Alice caught a glimpse of body armor peeking over the edge of her neckline. She was ready for a fight, Alice wasn’t.

Still, Alice figured the chances were better that she would walk out of it all alive. Her confidence was only bolstered when a bush beside them rustled and Bucky hopped out to fall into step beside her.

A change of clothes and he was a different person entirely. His hair was casually styled back in that ‘I-just-got-out-of-bed’ kind of way, and he was wearing simple tennis shoes, slacks, and an airy black shirt. He cast her a wink, “Bishop, your friend arrived before you. Don’t worry-” he said at her sharp, startled glance, “we didn’t touch her. She thinks she’s sneaky. She’s in place to shoot me in the head. My guys already have weapons trained on you  _and_ her.”

They crossed the street and entered the warehouse. Alice was grateful for the steadying hand Bucky put on her back. He let Bishop bring up the rear. She knew she was at a disadvantage if a firefight broke out.

Inside the warehouse they were as open and exposed as possible. Bishop looked up to where her leader was hiding- somewhere with a clear view of the room but where  no one on the ground could see her. Exposing her position by looking directly at her was Bishop’s way of delivering a warning-  _They know you’re there._

Clint was parallel to the hooded figure in the rafters, but much better at hiding. He drew his bow as Alice, Bucky, and Bishop entered. He had a clear shot of the back of the woman’s head. One wrong move- one wrong  _breath_ , and he was going to put an arrow through her skull.

“Agent Bishop,” Steve clipped the words as he stepped out from behind a pillar, “it’s nice to finally-”

The second Bishop stepped out from behind Bucky, the air was knocked from Steve’s lungs. His mouth hung open for a long time, gaping. When he did breathe, it was a ragged, fast gasp of air. Alice and Bucky braced for a fight- had she hurt him somehow?

Steve looked up into the rafters, “Get your ass down here-  _now_.” He was breathless.

Clint cursed at having his own position given away, but he loosed the string on the bow, slung the weapon over his shoulder, and grabbed his repel line.

His feet hit the floor and Bishop turned, the same stunned expression on her face as Steve’s. At the sight of Clint she clapped a hand over her mouth and sobbed. He took in Bishop for all of half a second before his legs gave out.

Alice and Bucky watched, incredulous, as Bishop threw herself at Clint and wrapped her arms around him. He pushed her away and cupped her cheeks in his hands to feel for a holo-mask before tears began to run down his face.

“Laura?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 

4 MONTHS AGO

 

A floorboard creaked.

Laura Barton groaned, “Lila Elizabeth Barton, it is 8:35pm.”

“I can’t sleep.” A little voice sounded from the back hallway.

“You can’t sleep and so you thought ice cream might help?” Laura was sitting at the kitchen table, well within sight of the refrigerator. Lila was angling for the chest freezer in the garage- where a new box of choco-tacos waited for Clint’s return.

Lila considered her next move carefully, “I was… getting juice?”

“Next time Auntie Nat is in town, I’m going to ask her to teach you to lie. You’re making it just too easy.” Laura waited until she heard the soft _thud_ of footsteps up the stairs to mark the disappointed child’s retreat, “Cooper? There are eight choco-tacos, three strawberry pops, and two chocolate drumsticks in that freezer. If they aren’t there in the morning, you’ll be eating bologna and mayonnaise sandwiches for a month.”

A minute later the neat _click_ of a closing door signaled her son was back in his room working on homework.

When one child caused trouble, all others did as well.

 _‘What am I going to do when Nathaniel is old enough to be sneaky?_ ’

She sighed and turned her full attention back to her work. Every penny she and Clint had was in cashiers checks sitting before her. So much money- even the children’s college funds were included in the stack. Every account had been closed, every savings account or retirement fund cashed in regardless of how much penalty she incurred in taking the money out so soon.

Laura went through it all, rationing and isolating, sorting money they could spend from money they could only spend when they were utterly destitute (the children’s college funds fell into that category).

It was all over the news- the mission to Germany had failed. Laura brought the kids home from vacation the day Clint left. Now he was in prison and she knew it was only a matter of time before the government figured out Clint had a wife and came for her head as well.

She had no doubt her husband would escape. Natasha may have fought on the side that arrested him, but she would never, _ever_ leave him in that prison. Worst-case scenario, Clint would find a way to cut a deal. He would be home- but then they would have to vanish. You didn’t kick a beehive without getting stung. Laura would do anything to ensure that the kids were protected from that.

Clint made a comfortable sum working for SHIELD, it would hold them for a few years with careful money management. Everything sitting on the table _combined_ didn’t even touch what was in the account Tony Stark created for them. Clint’s share of the royalties from any Avengers or Hawkeye merchandise one of Stark’s subsidiaries produced. The money was a poisoned apple though- the second Laura tried to touch it Stark would know. He’d stood against Clint, he knew where their home was, and he was too unpredictable to trust. He would either ignore her withdrawal of the money or have General Ross on her in seconds.

Three days. Three more agonizing, terrifying days and Laura would be forced to take the kids underground without their father. She knew Clint would find them but… it scared her.

Natasha Romanoff. Steve Rogers. Wanda Maximoff. Tony Stark. Sam Wilson.

‘ _There is no phone tree for who to call when the Emergency Phone Tree is down._ ’

Coulson was dead, Nick Fury had vanished along with Maria Hill, Bruce Banner was missing, and Thor didn’t know how to check his e-mail. Laura had no way to get a message to Clint, and even though she knew he would be alright, it didn’t stop her from worrying.

But she was a mother- currently juggling three kids and a farm solo. She couldn’t show nerves or fear, not if she wanted her children to be brave for what was to come.

Once again a floorboard creaked and Laura had to resist slamming her hands on the table in frustration, “Alright Lila, now you’re just begging for stall-cleaning duty.” She stood and turned-

“Get the kids.” Standing in the doorway, eyes wide with fear, was Natasha Romanoff.

\---

  


\---

 

“Nat and her team got to us five minutes before Hydra arrived.” Laura said from Clint’s lap. They were gathered back in the loft, waiting for her mysterious partner to arrive. The other woman never came down from the rafters, but Laura didn’t seem concerned.

“ _You_ burned the farm,” Clint shuddered as he held his wife.

Alice had an idea, “Natasha did, didn’t she?” The others looked to her, “Well, my grandfather thinks he has Clint’s wife. He wouldn’t if there were family photos hanging everywhere.”

Bishop- _Laura_ \- nodded and shifted in Clint’s arms to pull out the photograph she’d shown Alice, “This is all I have left, the rest- like you said- burned. Nat even got the photo albums I was keeping in the panic room.”

‘ _They said someone threw a grenade in the room.’_

Alice accepted the photograph. Clint peeked at it as it changed hands and laughed, “The party Coulson threw us after the wedding?” That group represented the only members of SHIELD to ever know of Clint’s marriage. Of them, now only Clint, Natasha, and Laura were still living.

Or-

“He has Natasha,” Alice started slightly, then looked to Laura.

She nodded, and an aching sadness filled her eyes, “Burning the house didn’t buy us any time. They were closing in, and we realized… someone had to distract them. Most of SHIELD thought Nat and Clint were involved anyways… I tried to stop her, I really did.”

Clint swallowed hard and rested his forehead against Laura’s shoulder.

“How did they get the kids?” Bucky asked the impossible question. The one Clint was avoiding.

Laura opened her mouth and a knock sounded at the door.

“Clint, go get that?” Laura shifted off of her husband’s lap. He stood, hopeful and frightened in equal measure, “Steve- help him.”

Wanda reached up to squeeze Clint’s hand as he passed, offering her mentor strength. Whatever it was Laura was going to say, she wanted him out of the room.

Everyone sat in silence, waiting for her to divulge their fate- though they knew where that story ended. Alice, sitting beside Bucky, took his metal hand in hers, suddenly afraid. They were the only two who knew a Barton child was dead.

The door opened, and-

“DADDY!!!”

Bucky, Alice, and Wanda jumped at the little girl’s excited shriek. A baby started babbling happily from the other room, and they heard Cap’s surprised laugh.

“Think about it, Alice,” Laura smiled softly up at her.

“He never said they were children…” Alice looked to Bucky, “He never referred to the other prisoners as children, or as Clint’s…”

There was still grief in Laura’s eyes for whoever still sat in cells 1-B and 1-C, “Amadeus Cho, Maya Lopez, and Eoin O’Meara. All three were trained by Nat and Clint as children. Nat knew she could trust them, so she brought them to save us… When Natasha didn’t rendezvous with us we knew Hydra captured her. They went in to try and get her out.”

“Who was the youngest?” Bucky asked quietly. Alice’s stomach clenched.

‘ _Whose life paid for my addiction?_ ’

“Eoin O’Meara… I know- Alice it wasn’t your fault. It was Pierce and Silas and Johanssen. They are the only ones who have to answer for this,” Laura reached out and took her hand.

“And we’ll make sure they answer for every last second they took from his life.” A voice from the doorway said.

Sam was grinning in an instant, despite the somber atmosphere, “Of course she’s working with you.” A blond woman grinned at both Bucky and Sam as she entered.

“Alice Pierce, let me introduce you to Sharon Carter.” Bucky smiled in response to her grin, “A Carter and a Pierce in the same room- hopefully neither of you bursts into flames.”

Alice flinched, and Bucky’s grin vanished. He opened his mouth to say something, but Alice stood and offered a hand to Sharon, “It’s an honor to meet you. Your great aunt was my hero growing up.” Her smile was tense, but it had nothing to do with the Carter before her.

“After everything you’ve done for the Avengers? I’m the one who’s honored. I hope you know how brave you are, Alice.” Sharon shook her hand. She’d read the same thing in Alice that Bucky had, and used a softer tone to put the girl at ease.

“Hey look, no one’s melting!” Sam laughed- and Bucky shot him a withering gaze.

When Alice sat back down, a metal hand came to rest on her far shoulder, “I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly enough that none of the others noticed.

Alice had spent the last three years feeling as if her blood was poison itself. He cursed himself for the earlier joke. Carter or Pierce- as if one name were sacred and the other unholy. It reopened a wound Alice had finally begun to close.

The girl still smiled politely, but a flicker of life returned to her eyes when Clint finally came in buried in small children. Nathaniel was on his shoulders playing with his hair, Lila was perched on one hip with her arms around his neck, and Cooper was tucked in on the other side, an arm around his father’s shoulders.

Laura put a hand over her heart and actually had to wipe away tears, “I missed that sight.” The children cuddled up to their father- something she wasn’t sure she would ever see again.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on them,” Sharon explained. “For the record- I don’t approve of Laura playing spy.”

“I don’t like it either, but I won’t leave Natasha, Maya, or Amadeus to die for us.” Laura said. There was more than enough frustration in her voice to let everyone know this was not the first time they’d rehashed their argument.

Wanda raised an eyebrow to Clint, “Well, at least now we know why Marco was so excited for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, I might kill him before then.” Venom slid into Clint’s gaze and he held Lila tighter to his side.

Laura winced, “Yeah… I kind of had to promise Thanksgiving _and_ Christmas… Until Nathaniel goes off to college.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“Because while Kate was more than willing to lend us her name, Berny’s connections got us into that compound.”

Steve just grinned, unconcerned with Clint’s brother for the time being. If he caused trouble they would deal with him. “Sharon- if you and the kids want, you are more than welcome to move your home base here. It’s paid for by T’Challa.”

“How in the he-” Sharon glanced to the kids, “-ck did you swing that? Last I heard he was trying to kill Bucky.”

“He made my arm,” Bucky took the metal arm off of Alice’s shoulder to show it off.

“T’Challa’s a better man than I gave him credit for,” Steve offered.

“And he’s smarter than he looks.” Sam said.

Laura looked to Sharon and nodded, “If you can _guarantee_ that my babies won’t be in any danger here, then I’d love it if they could be with their father.”

“First sign of trouble we’ll put them on a jet to Wakanda,” Clint vowed. “Even Stark couldn’t lift a finger against Wakandans. There is no safer place in the world.”

Sharon smiled, “Cooper- you’re a wonderful babysitter, but I’ll be happy to _not_ leave you alone to watch your brother and sister when I’m out.”

“And I’ll be happy to not have to recite escape routes every day.” Cooper already had the same wry tone as his father. They’d all lived under incredible stress the past few months. For the first time he knew he could sleep without the world ending.

“We have to go back to the base soon,” Laura glanced out a nearby window- the sun was angling towards the horizon. “If it’s alright with everyone, I’d like to spend some time with my family?” Tears filled her eyes again, “I really, _really_ missed them.”

A family both thought they might have lost.

Laura and the kids followed Clint back to his room and away from the Avengers. They had an hour to just be a family again, before it was Clint who stayed behind while his wife ran into danger headfirst.

Steve and Sharon split off to talk, Sam and Wanda found something on the other side of the apartment to distract Scott with, and suddenly Bucky was left alone with Alice.

“Next time we go on a rescue mission, I’m demanding photographs of the victims.” Bucky mumbled to break the silence.

“Same. Things would have been a bit less stressful.”

Truth be told, knowing Clint’s family was safe and sound made Alice feel… hollow. Her entire focus and drive was to find them. It was a mission she’d embraced heart and soul. Natasha, Maya, and Amadeus still needed to be saved but… it wasn’t all on her shoulders anymore. Their loved ones weren’t there to look her in the eye if she failed.

For the briefest of moments, she had a glimpse of the emptiness and silence that waited once her mission was complete and Alice knew… she wasn’t strong enough to endure it. Purpose made her brave. It kept her focused and that mission was what she used to talk herself off the ledge when the cravings were bad.

Without it she might last a week? Two, if she could ride the high that would come at seeing Silas dead?

But then the Avengers would move on, leaving her in the dust as they returned to normal. When she finally OD’d, would they even know? Would they care?

“Alice?” Bucky turned her so that they were facing one another.

“What?” She wondered for a moment if he somehow knew what she was thinking. Master assassin and Hydra asset- how good was he at reading faces? How good was she at hiding? If he knew how much she was pitying herself, he would be as disgusted with her as she already was.

“I’m sorry about the Pierce-Carter crack. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“It’s fine. Didn’t bother me one bit.” Alice lied.

“Do you like- I mean, what do you like? To eat.”

She shrugged, “Anything. Why?”

“When this is all over… can I convince you to have a plate of ‘anything’? With me?”

The sincerity in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Shy hope was naked on his face but… but beneath it was pity. He’d guessed at her thoughts after all. Unfortunately, this time the Winter Soldier was up against Alexander Pierce’s granddaughter. As terrible as she was at controlling her expressions now, her skill at reading people hadn’t faded.

“Yeah. Sure.” She’d give him his meal before they flew off into the sunset. It’d probably make him feel better about leaving.

They made idle small-talk until it was time for Laura to kiss her husband and children goodbye, hug everyone else, and lead Alice out the door.

Alice Pierce would never see that apartment again.


End file.
